


The End

by Laure Alexander (ladyoneill)



Series: The Erotic Adventures of Willow and Spike [53]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, BDSM, Blood, Bondage, F/F, F/M, M/M, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sire/Childe, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 08:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 39,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/Laure%20Alexander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The beginning of the end of TEAOW&S.  Angel sets his plan for Willow into motion.  Will it destroy them all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Set In Motion

**Author's Note:**

> The prologue and first chapter were originally published on June 21, 2002, nearly four years after I began writing the series. I wrote quite a bit before posting any of it so it has a cohesion that many of the other stories lack. Some of the chapters are tame, some are very violent. There's despair and heartache and noncon sex and whippings and just about everything else the series has seen.
> 
> Originally dedicated to everyone who ever gave feedback on what has always been, by far, my most popular series.

Legend tells of a necklace, a pentacle, its center an emerald older than the race of men. Carved on its back in a language long dead are the words of doom. It is an amulet of great power for destruction. In a time of anniversary, under a full moon, the necklace shall be found and the end set in motion. But, if the five become one, all may not be lost.

Fragment of a third century Celtic prophecy, translated from the Greek to English in the seventeenth century by Diarmod O'Neill, KCOW

~~~~~

In the darkness the Master of Sunnydale brooded. While his childer slept and his lover walked in the sunshine, he made his final decision and set his plan in motion.

He saw no other choice...

...though his heart ached at what, in the end, must be...

End Prologue


	2. The Lover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel makes his first move and Spike pays the price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As noted with the prologue, this was originally published on June 21, 2002. This chapter is NC17 and has bondage, whipping, and het sex.

It was nearly an hour before sunset when Angel crossed the hallway from his room to the one shared by Spike and Drusilla. Before he could reach for the handle, the door opened and Drusilla, robed in black silk, looked up at him with sorrow-filled eyes.

"Please don't hurt him."

Angel stared down into her pale face, then cupped her chin in one hand. "It's time, Dru."

She nodded in acceptance, before stepping aside and allowing him entry to her room.

Sprawled in the middle of the bed on his back, his head turned to one side, Spike slept deeply. He looked so...young, beautiful.

His boy.

Hardening his heart, Angel stalked to the bed and grabbed the younger male by the nape of the neck. With a hard jerk, he pulled him from beneath the sheets.

Coming awake instantly, Spike struggled wildy, clawing at his the hand holding him. It only took one more moment to realize who held him and he stopped fighting, swallowing hard in sudden fear. Spun around, he gaped up at Angel.

"Sire?"

Tightening his lips, Angel dragged Spike to the end of the bed and chained the no longer resisting male with the manacles attached to the thick wooden posts. They were bespelled and unbreakable.

Staring blankly up at one chained wrist, Spike gulped. "Sire, what did I do?"

Angel ignored his plaintive plea and began to remove his belt.

Spike twisted his neck to see what was happening and his brow furrowed at the sight of his sire doubling the supple leather. "Please, sire, Angel..."

"...I'm sorry, Will," Angel muttered, staring at the leather wrapped around his fist.

"What?" Spike demanded loudly, turning to anger as pleading wasn't getting him anywhere. "What the fuck have I done now? What kind of bug has crawled up your ass?" The belt lashed across his back and Spike jerked, growling at the sudden pain. "Bastard!"

Another blow across his tight shoulders made him hiss and spit at his sire as he twisted in the chains. Without any explanation, the belt fell three more times, highlighting Spike's pale back in ugly red marks. The blond vampire writhed in pain and howled in anger.

Watching with both avid interest and sorrow, Drusilla sidled up to Angel.

"Must you beat him, daddy?"

Angel swiftly turned his attention and glower on Drusilla and she cowered back. "Are you questioning me, Dru?"

"No, sire, never," she replied meekly, backing herself into a corner from where she continued to watch as Angel turned back to Spike and lashed him again.

Desperately, Spike tried to figure out what he'd done. Although technically Angel needed no excuse, he usually didn't beat his childer for no reason, even if the reason was simply his to sooth his own frustration and anger.

As another blow fell making his body quiver in pain, he rolled his eyes and figured it out. The Slayer. What had the cow done now?

Gritting his teeth, he bit back a cry of pain and resolved to endure the rest of the beating in silence.

At least Angel had chosen him and not Drusilla.

Watching the bruises forming on his childe's back, Angel felt no pleasure only grim duty. He needed Spike broken and submissive. He could have simply chained him up, but if left whole, the younger male would only stew in fury. On being released and discovering that it was too late...

Well, Angel had no illusions that Spike wouldn't try to kill him for that.

But, if he broke him first, made him understand there was no hope...

Sadly Angel figured he was still destined for a brutal battle with his favorite childe.

In the corner, Drusilla watched the blossoms of red and purple spread across the shoulders and back of her lover, and desire flared in the pit of her stomach. Mewling softly, she slithered back to the two males and pressed herself lightly to Angel's back, her hands playing against his stomach.

"Daddy? I'm all fluttery."

Swiveling his head, Angel started to growl, then stopped, a speculative look in his eye. Turning in Drusilla's arms, he ran one hand slowly over her breasts, fondling them through the thin silk.

"Are you, my black beauty?" His hand trailed farther down to cup her mound.

Drusilla squealed.

Spike stiffened, a new anger growing in him. He had learned to accept Angel's taking of Drusilla, but he still didn't like it, and they were rarely this blatant in front of him.

Wrapping his belt around Drusilla's waist, Angel cinched it tightly, then pulled aside her robe, baring her breasts and framing them with the silk. His fingers glided between the folds of cloth covering her thighs and caressed her curl shrouded cleft with deft strokes.

Drusilla clutched her sire's broad shoulders and moaned long and deep.

At the sound, and as the scent of her arousal hit him, hot and musky, a growl broke from Spike and he jerked futilely on the chains.

Sweeping the female vampiress into his arms, Angel carried her the few steps to the bed and tossed her on her back. She squealed again and squirmed her way up to the pillows, spreading her legs and holding out her arms.

Her eyes never went to Spike.

Smirking down at her, Angel pulled his top over his head, then unfastened his pants, shoving them down just far enough to free his hard cock. He stroked it a few times, watching as Drusilla wriggled and arched her back, reaching for him, then he fell on her, burying his hungry mouth between her breasts.

Drusilla clasped him to her and wrapped her legs around his hips, rubbing her soaking cleft against his erection. "Fuck me, daddy, fuck me," she cried, eyes closing, fingernails digging into his shoulders.

Growling, Angel sucked one taut nipple between his lips, then thrust his hips forward, driving into her tight, wet body. As Drusilla moaned and whimpered, clawing at him, he fucked her hard and fast, pounding her into the mattress, his mouth suckling and biting at her nipples until he drew blood.

His silent fury growing, Spike watched his sire's ass rise and fall, and Drusilla' s heels drum on his back, as her fingers clawed rivulets down his spine. Her face was suffused with pleasure and she mindlessly cried Angel's name over and over again. The scent of blood joined the aroma of sex, and Spike flinched at the sounds of slurping as Angel drank from Drusilla's breast.

Suddenly they rolled and Angel pushed Drusilla up so that she sat on him. She bounced eagerly, her nails biting into the sensitive skin surrounding his nipples. Angel cupped her hips, bruising her as he thrust upwards into her, his back arching off the bed.

Eyes open, he stared triumphantly at the anger, frustration and hatred that shown on Spike's expression-filled face.

There was more than one way to break his boy.

With a sharp cry, Drusilla shuddered into orgasm, and toppled forward, her hips continuing to move as Angel thrust mindlessly, seeking his own release. Grunting loudly, he came with a hard jerking of his hips, then collapsed, smirking in pleasure.

Sighing happily, Drusilla slipped to the side, then turned and placed her head on Angel's stomach. Reaching down, she ran one finger along his softening cock, then placed the digit in her mouth, sucking both their secretions from it.

Folding one arm beneath his head, Angel relaxed and focused on the streams of blood running down Spike's arms from his wrists as he pulled and tugged against the manacles. "Didn't like that, boy?"

"Bastard," Spike howled, twisting in the chains. "I hate you. I won't be your whipping boy for the Slayer any longer."

Angel's brow furrowed and he slipped from the bed, refastening his pants as he walked towards Spike. "Buffy? This has nothing to do with Buffy, Spike."

"But...what?" Confusion filled him and Spike struggled to figure out what this was all about. Maybe he had done something after all. Or... As the obvious truth hit him, terror filled him and he choked back a scream, whimpering, "No," in feeble protest. "Please no."

A glimmer of compassion filled Angel's eyes and he gently placed a hand on Spike's tightening cheek. "I'm sorry, Will. It's time."

Spike flung back his head and howled in agony.

Puzzled, Drusilla slipped from the other side of the bed and danced lightly over to the screaming vampire. "This is a good thing."

Turning tear-filled eyes on her, Spike shook his head wildly. "Don't let him do this, Dru. Please help me."

Drusilla nibbled on her lower lip and frowned, then hesitantly reached up towards the manacles.

"Drusilla," Angel barked harshly, making her jerk back and duck her head in guilt. "I think you should leave. You can dress in my room."

Nodding, she shuffled past him and grabbed a dress from a pile of clothes on a chair, then headed for the door.

"Wait."

She froze, then whimpered softly as Angel unfastened the belt from her waist. Catching one of his wrists, she turned in his arms and gave him a sensuous smile. "Will you beat me, too?" she whispered, lust coloring her husky voice.

"Not today, baby." Gently turning her around, he patted her on the bottom and sent her through the door. Closing it behind her, he leaned against it briefly, then sighed and straightened up. Turning back to his still struggling childe, he slowly began to wrap the belt around his fist again.

*****

Standing in the middle of Victoria's Secret, Willow held a black lace teddy under her chin and cocked one hip. "What do you think?"

Buffy arched a brow and grinned. "Spike will be a puddle of drool."

Grinning, Willow glanced at the pricetag, then wondered briefly if her father would buy her excuse of needing one hundred dollars worth of sensible cotton panties.

"Looks awfully flimsy, though," Buffy continued.

Willow shrugged. "His eyes bugging out will be worth it getting torn off me, and it *is* a special night."

"Only you would celebrate the one year anniversary of getting kidnaped," Buffy teased, combing through the racks for something to bug out Angel's eyes.

"Well, though technically I was half-scared out of my wits, the sex was pretty amazing. Hm, makes me hot just remembering."

Grinning back at her friend, Buffy pulled a pink camisole and tap pants set from the rack. "So, what do you have planned tonight?"

"Dinner, then maybe stopping by the Bronze for some dancing and public displays of affection before heading for his place and seeing how long this bit of nothing lasts."

"See, it's tight in the crotch. You should try these tap panties. Easily shoved aside," Buffy whispered, making Willow giggle as they headed for the counter.

"I'll remember that for next time."

End Chapter One


	3. The End: The Amulet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel continues his assault on Spike while Buffy is distracted and Willow readies for her anniversary with her lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on June 27, 2002 and rated R for Angel whipping Spike and generally being evil.

His back a mass of agony, his eyes blinded with tears, Spike jerked as the belt fell again. He had lost count early on, but there must have been at least two hundred blows.

None had cut him, but the skin on his back was nearly black with bruises, and still the belt cracked against him until he hung limp and exhausted in the chains, whimpering softly like a hurt cub.

Watching his childe slump against the footboard, his feet going out from underneath him, Angel lowered the belt and sighed heavily. His eyes slid over Spike's back, but he felt no pride in the masterpiece of pain he'd created. His shoulders slumped and he wondered how much more of this either of them could take.

He wanted Spike broken and cowed and accepting. Even if it was only temporary, it should last long enough for Willow to be turned and awaken. In the end Spike would have no choice but to accept the fact of her as a vampire.

But, Angel was beginning to believe that his childe was too strong to break. He was rather surprised by that.

And his boy was inspiring an odd sense of paternal pride in him.

Realizing the beating had stopped, Spike gritted his teeth and forced himself back onto his feet. Dizziness assailed him and he swung in the chains, but managed not to cry out in pain.

He'd been beaten before, many times, and often worse, but Angel had never tried to break him.

Spike understood why his sire was attempting to do so now, but he couldn't let it happen. He had to stay strong and somehow fight his way free. He had to save Willow.

Twisting his head around, he saw Angel regarding him with solemn eyes, and begged, "Not tonight," every emotion inside him nearly choking him.

Angel gave him a tired look. "Then when, Will? Next month, next year? Do I let you go tonight with promises that you will have until tomorrow only to find you've run with her?"

Dropping the strap, he leaned against the bedpost, head down, shoulders slumped. "Too many of our people know of her promise, Will. I can't delay forever."

"You don't have to do it at all," Spike cried, digging his fingers into wood, desperately trying to tear the bed posts apart and free himself.

Looking at the straining muscles of his favorite childe, Angel felt a moment of despair mixed with quiet pride, then he turned and embraced the younger male from behind. Lowering his head to Spike's shoulder, he sighed softly. "If I don't see my bargains through, Will, if I lose face in front of my own minions...You know what will happen to this town."

"I don't care," Spike sobbed bitterly, trying to pull away from his sire's embrace, which was comforting despite the pain in his back. "You'll destroy everything I love in her."

Unable to bear the anguish in his childe's voice anymore, Angel stepped back and glanced up at the manacles. "Since you won't break, you can just stay here until it's over. The manacles and posts are magicked," he said coldly, "You can't escape."

Spike twisted his head to glare at the older male. "Buffy will stop you."

Angel simply shook his head. "Buffy will be too busy on the far side of town."

"You'd throw your own mate into danger?"

"She's in no danger. The minions are to detain her, not hurt her, and I have complete trust in her abilities to protect herself. She just won't be interfering any time soon." Turning, he headed for the door, ignoring Spike's wild pleas.

"No, you can't do this. Please, sire, please."

As the door closed behind Angel, Spike screamed his pain and fear to the world.

*****

Descending the stairs, Angel found Drusilla sitting in front of the cold fireplace, holding her hands out to nothing. She looked up at him, her eyes solemn and wide.

"You are not to go in there until I say, do you understand, Drusilla?"

She nodded, but her lower lip trembled. "He's scared."

"Everything will be fine in a couple of nights, and you will have a new sister to play with."

"She'll be cold, like me."

Crouching down next to her, Angel nodded. "And wicked and fun, too."

"Spike doesn't want her heart dead," she replied bleakly, clasping her hands in her lap and dropping her eyes.

"He will adjust."

"She will be so scared." Drusilla shivered and scooted nearer to the empty fireplace.

"Would you like a real fire, Dru?" Angel asked kindly.

She shook her head. "The fire's going out and all will be ice." Looking up, she stared blankly past his shoulder. "Our salvation and ruin...So much blood."

"I have to do this, Dru."

Giving him a sad smile, she patted his hand. "I know, daddy. The King must answer to his courtiers, and the Prince's rebellion will come to naught."

Angel's eyes narrowed as he grasped her meaning. "Spike is going to rebel?"

"When hasn't he, the naughty prince?" Drusilla smiled suddenly and rose to her knees, lifting her lips to her sire's. "Now go and bring home our new princess."

*****

Smiling to herself as the silk of her new lingerie slid against her skin, Buffy twirled a stake between her fingers and strolled through Eternal Peace Cemetery. As she neared the center, the sound of something scraping against stone reached her and she stilled, turning her head in the direction of the noise. Muffled voices came to her and then a louder scrape. Metal on stone.

Silently she stalked towards the sounds. As she got closer, she began to make out individual voices. Three, four, maybe five. Discussing an artifact in a tomb. Creeping up behind a large tombstone, she peered around it and saw half a dozen vampires using crowbars on a sealed vault.

"Hurry," the vampire holding a flashlight urged, "The Slayer could be around here."

"Once we have the amulet, it won't matter," another replied confidently, then grunted as the stone shifted.

"Put your backs into it, lads," a third cheered, tugging hard on his own crowbar.

The stone shifted again, then fell aside, sending up a cloud of dust. As Buffy calculated odds and pulled another stake from her pocket, one of the vampires ducked into the crypt and emerged, a glittering necklace in his hand.

The vampires' cheers were cut off by a loud whistle and they all turned to stare at the Slayer. "Wow, that's some rock. What's it do?"

"Our master needs it to bring on the end of the world," an obvious fledgling crowed, then cried out as the flashlight holder smacked him across the ear.

"Shaddup!"

Buffy mock yawned. "End of the world...That's so passe, you know."

"Pass what?" the most stupid of the bunch asked, actually scratching the top of his head.

Buffy rolled her eyes and charged, only to find the vampires scattering. "Hey! Come back here!" Cursing under her breath, she took off after the one holding the amulet and his two companions.

She could always stake the other three another night.

*****

At the soft knock on the French door, Willow glanced up from the dresses strewn across the bed, then looked at her watch before smiling. It was the one year anniversary of the night Drusilla made a present of her to Spike, and they had a big evening planned, if she could ever decide on an outfit to go with her new teddy. She was currently wrapped in a big, fluffy robe.

"You're early, sweetie," she said, heading for the door, "Come on in."

Before she could reach it, the door opened and a large hand pushed aside the curtain. Willow stumbled to a halt, eyes widening in shock, as her worst nightmare entered the room.

Smirking down on the trembling girl, Angel closed the door behind him. "Thanks for the invite, but very sloppy of you, Willow. We shall have to do something about that."

Willow took an involuntary step backwards and swallowed hard, trying not to let her fear show. "Get out. You're not welcome here."

He smiled wider. "Bravo. Not a stammer to be heard."

"Spike will be here any minute."

Angel shook his head lazily, savoring the terror emanating from her. "No, he won't."

Willow went white and swayed in shock. "Wh...what have you done with him?"

"Your lover will recover, but he won't be riding to your rescue," Angel replied, taking another step towards her which sent her back up against the wall. Grinning wolfishly he invaded her personal space and placed a hand on the wall on either side of her head.

"Now you promised not to fight..."

Terror overwhelmed her and she burst into tears.

"Willow, Willow," Angel chided softly. "All you have to do is accept, and you will be a magnificent monster."

"I don't want to be a monster," Willow sobbed, pressing herself as hard against the wall as she could.

One of his hands slipped onto her shoulder and his fingers encircled her neck, lightly rubbing the collar. "Your wishes have never mattered, you know that."

As she continued to sob bitterly, he sighed and released her. "Get dressed." Willow turned startled eyes on him and he continued, his voice cold. "I'm not doing this here amongst the stuffed animals and rainbows."

When Willow made no move to obey, Angel grabbed her and quickly stripped the robe from her. As she struggled naked against his grip, he yanked a mint green cashmere dress over her head, then scooped her black pumps from the floor and dropped them at her feet.

Willow stammered, "I need underwear and stockings."

"No. You don't," Angel replied, his voice as hard and cold as ice, and Willow shivered as she jammed her feet into the shoes.

With a lingering, tear-filled look at her childhood bedroom, she let him drag her out the door into the cold night.

End of Chapter 2


	4. The Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow's been captured and faces the end of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on July 7, 2002, it's rated R for angst, darkness, and a bit of slashiness. Angel is very evil.

Wrapping her arms around her body, unable to stop the fear- induced trembling, Willow huddled in a corner of the front seat of Angel's Mercedes as he drove with one hand on the wheel and one on her thigh, as if he was afraid she would bolt from the car at every stoplight.

Her mind churned with questions, with half-finished pleas, for ways to stop him from doing this, and finally she blurted out, "Why now?"

Angel glanced over at her and smiled in grim satisfaction at the sight of her small pale face. She was no longer crying, and was beginning to use her mind.

He wasn't all together sure that was a good thing.

"Why not? You're eighteen. Physically you're probably as mature as you're going to get, and your mind will continue to grow with every year."

"It won't be my mind."

"It won't be controlled by your soul but it will still be your mind, Willow. You will still be you, just...without a conscience."

"And with a murderous bloodlust," she muttered, staring blankly out the window.

"And demonic lusts, and a flare for evil. None of this will matter in a few hours. When you awaken, you won't care what you were or that you're different. You'll feel...better. You think that you're intelligent now, just wait."

A shudder of horror went through her, and his hand tightened on her thigh.

"What did you do to Spike?" she choked out finally, dreading the answer.

"He's chained in his room. Did you think I killed him, Willow? We don't know if the bond will carry over into your new life. I couldn't risk losing you." Angel's hand slipped up her body to finger one red curl that hung enticingly over her breast. As she pressed herself against the door, his fingers tightened on her hair until she yelped in pain.

Releasing her, he flipped on the turn signal and pulled into the long driveway.

In growing horror Willow stared up at the mansion as her stomach churned violently.

It finally hit her.

She was going to die tonight.

When the car stopped, Willow frantically shoved open the door and flung herself from the vehicle. Falling to her knees in the uncut, dry grass, her entire body heaving in protest, she vomited.

Thinking that she was trying to escape, Angel vaulted over the hood of the car, then came to a quick stop before he fell over her crouched form in the grass. After she wiped her mouth with a shaking hand, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to her feet.

"How many more dramatics are we going to have?"

"As many as I can think of," she retorted, whimpering as his fingers tightened and he glared down at her.

"Will this rebellious streak remain when you're my childe?" he mused. "I'll enjoy beating it out of you."

"Sadist," Willow hissed, finally allowing anger to surpass the fear.

Angel grinned. "Hm, yes. And we all know that you're a masochist. You enjoy being beaten and hurt."

"By the man I love."

One of his hands slipped down the front of her dress and his fingers pinched closed around one of her nipples. It immediately hardened and Willow flushed in humiliation while Angel chuckled evilly.

"Does that mean you love me?" he quipped, before grabbing her arm and dragging her towards the house.

*****

Willow didn't fight him as he led her up the stairs to his suite, nor did she balk when he pushed her into the bathroom with the brusque command to rinse out her mouth and brush her teeth. Avoiding the mirror he'd installed for Buffy, Willow did as he asked, ridding herself of the sour taste of vomit. As she spit out the lasts of the minty toothpaste, she slowly looked up into the mirror.

The fear in her eyes was really tangible. It wasn't just an expression. Panic shown from the watery green depths like a beacon.

She was terrified.

And there was nothing she could do.

Slowly she sank down onto the closed toilet and buried her face in her hands, but she didn't cry. Her tears were gone for the moment.

She just felt so tired.

And so very lost.

As Willow slowly gathered the strength to face the end of her life, the half-closed door was pushed open and Angel entered the bathroom.

Willow's eyes widened at the sight of a sharp knife in his hand.

*****

Confidence filling him, Angel left Willow in the bathroom and strode across the hall. Flinging open the door he noted in satisfaction that Spike was still chained, though he struggled against the bonds.

Spike felt his sire behind him, but he concentrated only on the manacles, desperately trying to pull them free from the posts, or even cut his hands off on the dull iron. The moment Willow had walked into the mansion he'd felt her.

She was so scared.

Her scent was confusing, a muddle of terror and sickness, and the horrifying beginnings of acceptance.

But, she was still human. He held onto that fact and pulled harder on the chains, sending thick rivers of blood down his arms from his abraded wrists.

"You're just making me hungry, boy."

"Fuck you," Spike yelled, still not looking at his sire.

"Where's the key, Will?"

"...What?" He actually stopped struggling for a moment at his sire's odd question, then his eyes widened. "NO!"

Angel sighed heavily and rolled his eyes before walking over to the dresser to paw through the drawers and Drusilla's jewelry box. "Just tell me where it is. All this delay is doing is allowing her terror to amplify."

Tears filled Spike's eyes and he wrenched his shoulder as he turned his furious glare on Angel. "You'll never find it. Only I can remove it."

Angel snorted and slammed the last drawer shut before heading for the night stand to go through the contents scattered on the shelves. After about ten futile minutes of searching the room, he gave up and glared at his childe. "You know, I just wanted to make it easier on her, give her something to remember you by."

Leaning down, Angel pulled a wicked looking knife from his boot, then cracked the flat of the blade across Spike's face, leaving a thin bleeding line from the outer corner of his eye to his chin. Spike hissed at the sudden pain and jerked his head back to snarl at the older male.

The burst of anger Angel had felt at being unable to find the key dispersed into amusement and desire, and he grabbed Spike's clenched jaw and ran his tongue up the wound, then kissed him with hungry passion.

As he pulled back, Spike spat angrily, twisting in the chains and making them rattle loudly.

Angel sighed again. "You're going to be a distraction, aren't you." Before Spike could reply, the dark vampire caught him in a headlock and slowly strangled him.

Although a vampire didn't need to breathe, some air flow was necessary to allow blood to pump to the brain to keep it functioning. Without either, a vampire wouldn't die, but would fall unconscious, usually for several hours.

Angel was counting on that time free of concern for his favorite childe in order to make his newest one.

Spike struggled wildly, gasping loudly, but it was no use. As darkness shrouded his vision, his last thought was a two word prayer for Willow.

Please God...

*****

"Wh..what's the knife for?" Willow stammered, pressing herself back against the sink.

Angel held it up to the light, twirling the blade in his hand, then smirked at her. "That bit of leather offends me and since it's locked in place and no one will give me a key..." He let the sentence dangle menacingly.

Automatically, Willow's hand went to the embroidered collar around her neck. It hadn't been off her in nearly a month, and that night she'd only lasted two hours before she'd wanted it returned to its rightful place. "Please...don't take it away from me."

"You won't need it anymore. You'll be Spike's equal, not his slave."

"It doesn't symbolize that," she protested, her fingers wrapping tightly around the supple leather.

"If you say so," he patronized her, a smirk crossing his face. In a blink of an eye he slit the leather and the collar fell into Willow's hand. Pulling it from her neck, she blinked back useless tears and fingered one of the embroidered roses.

Angel pointed the knife to her hand. "The ring, too."

Dully she removed the engagement ring and carefully set it on the vanity, laying the ruined collar next to it. For a moment her fingers lingered on the physical symbols of Spike's love for her and hers for him, then she straightened her spine and turned back to Angel.

He gestured again with the knife, this time to the door. "Out."

Slowly Willow shuffled out of the bathroom and into the dark bedroom. Her heart raced for a minute as he passed her, then she forced herself to relax.

There was nothing more she could say or do...

End Chapter 3


	5. The Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel takes Willow to bed...really can't say more than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on July 11, 2002. There is graphic semi-noncon sex between Angel and Willow and a ton of angst.
> 
> Original dedication: This chapter is dedicated to Peygan who made me giggle with a theory on my posting schedule and keeps encouraging me to post faster. :) (No clue as to the theory--that feedback would be on a computer like three or four ago which are scattered around my house in storage)

As Angel moved around her, lighting candles and illuminating the room, Willow stared blankly at the massive bed draped in crimson silk. An eerie calm settled over her, so that when he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, she didn't flinch.

"Why do you want me?" she whispered, her eyes still focused on the middle of the bed.

One of Angel's hands drifted up to cup a breast through the soft wool, and his thumb flicked across her nipple. "I don't really know," he finally replied. "At first, it was a way to hurt Buffy, then it was a way to hurt Spike, and finally...it was just you."

"To hurt me?" she asked bitterly.

He ignored her question. "That Spike fell in love with you isn't much of a surprise. That boy has always had too much of a heart for a real demon. But Drusilla...She hates humans. She toys with them, tortures them, and eats them alive. I have never seen her touch a human with true tenderness...until you. So, what is it about you, Willow, that makes a mad demoness love you?"

"She loves me because Spike does."

He continued to fondle her breast gently, listening to her heart rate increase as desire spawned in the pit of her stomach. "Maybe. But, she hates Buffy even more now that she knows I love her. One would think she'd hate you for stealing her lover from her."

Willow squirmed slightly in his embrace, her face turning pink as his touch brought her the beginnings of pleasure. Stiffening, she tried to control her breathing.

"Are you going to play frigid?" Angel chuckled in her ear.

"I don't want you."

"Are you sure about that?" His other hand slipped over her trembling stomach, and he smiled at the heat emanating from between her legs.

Willow grabbed his creeping hand before it could press against her swiftly dampening mound. "You're an expert lover, Angelus. You could wring a response from a statue. But, just because I'll get off on you fucking me, doesn't mean I want you."

Angel's hands tightened on her and he growled low in his chest in frustrated anger.

"And that's what you really want, isn't it," Willow continued a bit gleefully. "It's not enough that Buffy craves your touch so much she'll do anything for you, or that Dru loves you, and even Spike enjoys you in bed. You have to have it all."

"Yeah, I do." Spinning her around, he caught her shoulders in his big hands. "I don't know why I want you. You're cute and smart, not to mention bitchy, which I like in a girl, but you're not a super model, and your eternal devotion to my favorite childe grows old really fast. But, it really doesn't matter why I want you, Willow. What matters is that I have you." With a sudden movement he lifted her off her feet, making her squeak. "Which I do." He tossed her on the bed and pounced after her, straddling her body and leaning down to face her.

Willow paled and whimpered uncontrollably, her fear returning to the fore.

One calloused thumb brushed across the multitude of scars encircling her neck and Angel murmured, "There's nothing more beautiful than a well-marked woman."

Her pallor quickly turned to the red of humiliation. The scars were not for him to see, to touch, to claim. As his tongue lapped across the newest one below her ear, she whimpered. Without the collar, her neck felt...wrong. Naked.

"I've been dreaming about tasting you. They say a bonded woman tastes richer, hotter, and of her lover. Do you taste like Spike?" As he whispered the last question in her ear, Angel grazed the lobe with his blunt teeth, sending a shiver through her. "Soon you will taste like me and Darla and Nest and every master of our line, all the way back to Aurelius himself. It's heady stuff, Willow."

Raising his head to look down into her fear-filled eyes he casually asked, "Have you tasted my childe?"

"So--sometimes," Willow stammered. "Not on purpose, just..."

"In the heat of the moment," he continued silkily.

Sitting up, Angel pulled his shirt over his head and negligently tossed it aside. At the sight of his broad, bare chest, Willow swallowed convulsively and looked away. His hand around her chin forced her eyes back to him.

"No pretending, Willow." His thumb brushed across her trembling lips. "I am your sire, your master, your fucking god, not him."

"I never wanted him to be any of those things," she choked out.

"Which is a good thing since you were always meant to be mine." Swooping down, he covered her lips with his in a possessive, hungry kiss.

After several minutes of Angel's tongue thrusting into her mouth and his lips twisting on hers, Willow began to feel devoured. His heavy body pressed her into the firm mattress beneath her and sucked the air from her lungs, leaving her gasping helplessly. Her hands found his shoulders and she pushed feebly until he lifted his head and grinned down at her. Willow drew in sharp breaths of air and stared dully up at him.

Angel shifted his torso slightly to the side, giving her more breathing room, and lightly stroked her pale cheek. "Sometimes I forget how delicate you humans are." His fingers trailed down her neck to fiddle with the scoop neck of her dress. "So breakable..." His head dipped and his mouth found the warm, perspiration-slicked valley between her breasts.

"Not delicate," Willow panted, shifting her gaze to the ceiling as he pulled the dress aside to lick along the curve of her breast. "Just need to breathe."

"For now," he buzzed against her sensitive skin, making her gasp at both the statement and the sensation.

Sitting back on his heels, Angel pulled her with him and wriggled the hem of her dress out from beneath her. She sat limp and still for the several minutes it took for him to tug the garment up her body and over her head. He then reached back and pulled off her shoes, tossing them over the side of the bed. Scowling at her, he shoved her back down. "Passive resistence pisses me off, Willow."

"I promised not to resist. I never said I'd help," she mumbled, squeezing her hands into fists at her sides.

Angel rolled his eyes and peeled off his pants. He watched her flush as her gaze involuntarily slipped to his hard cock. Smirking, he stroked it languidly, pulling on the head until it became slick with his own emissions. He watched her nostrils flare as the scent of his arousal mingled with her own growing one.

The smirk deepened.

Slithering back over her, Angel settled between Willow's thighs, spreading them wider with his hips. She frowned, but bent her knees, lessening the strain on her unwilling muscles. Propped on one hand, Angel fondled her breasts for a few minutes, then slid his hand down her stomach and into the nest of curls between her thighs.

She was wet and swollen, but still not moving a muscle to help or respond.

Frowning at her, Angel rolled onto his back.

Willow gave him a startled look and slammed her thighs together.

"Fine, if you don't want to play, you can do all the work." As he snarled at her, he grabbed her arm and jerked her across him.

"No," she denied him, shaking her head and trying to pull away from him. He caught her hips and lifted her above him, forcing her to straddle his stomach.

At the persistent pushing of his cock against her lower back, Willow reddened and squirmed.

"Oooh, do it again."

"Pig."

Chuckling, Angel cupped her breasts, then pinched her nipples, making her cry out in surprised pleasure.

"Oh, yeah, you like that," he murmured, rolling the stiff nubbins against the rough pads of his fingertips. "The pain arouses you." He smacked one hand down on her hip and she jerked, biting into her lower lip as heat flooded her. "Fuck me, Willow," he ordered, his voice husky with lust.

"Nuhhh...no," she forced out, and he spanked her again, harder, leaving a bright red hand print on the curve of her bottom. Willow pressed her hands against his chest to brace herself and squeezed her eyes shut.

Angel grunted. "Lift your hips." When she refused to do so, he growled and grabbed her waist, jerking her off his stomach and causing her to dangle in the air. She gasped and dug her fingernails into him as she lost her balance. "If you don't guide me in, it's going to hurt."

As Willow opened her eyes, tears of frustration leaked from them and she reached down to encircle his cock with her hand. Angel grunted in approval and lowered her slowly, forcing her to let him inside. When he was fully seated in her wet heat, he released her and stretched his hands over his head.

"Ride me, babe, and make it good."

Swallowing convulsively, Willow felt her inner muscles clamp down against her will, and fresh tears poured from her. His cock throbbed inside her, pressing against her most sensitive spots and sending bursts of lightning through her, and she began to pant softly.

The unwanted desire grew too much and slowly she lifted her hips and began to rock against him.

From beneath hooded eyes, Angel watched the anger, hatred, frustration and humiliation cross her face, and smiled. Furious, obstinate, bitchy...she was a wonder.

As she began to move faster, thrusting her hips down onto him, he forced his body to remain still. His lust increased with each slap of flesh on flesh, but he wanted to teach her a lesson. If she'd only responded, he would have made love to her, turning her at the height of her ecstasy.

Now, she could work for her own release and bring him off at the same time.

And he'd turn her whenever he damn well felt like it.

Willow knew what he was doing and hated him even more. He wanted her participating fully, and her body, so well trained for pleasure and pain, was obeying his wishes. She wished she had the courage to tear the evil glint of amusement and lust from his eyes.

But, all she did was fuck him harder, driving her aching clit against the base of his thick cock with each thrust of her hips. Sweat slid down her body and she closed her eyes again, arching her head back and moaning as her need spread from deep inside her womb to every nerve in her body.

Suddenly, on an upswing, her orgasm hit, and, braced above him, she quivered, then cried out and slammed down on him, as waves of pleasure crashed over her.

As she shuddered atop him, Angel clasped her hips in his big hands and smoothly rolled them. Settling between her sprawled legs, he braced himself above her and thrust deeply. His cool, hard chest brushed teasingly against her aching nipples, and Willow whimpered and squirmed beneath him. Her hips arched to his, driving him deeper, and her passion blossomed anew.

As her vaginal muscles began to ripple along his throbbing cock, Angel lowered his head and captured one of her nipples between his teeth. He nipped and she yelped, arching her back and grabbing the back of head, pressing his mouth to her breast.

Willow's knees rose and rubbed against his sides, then her legs slipped around his thighs and she began to move with him, rocking their bodies together. Panting harshly, she dragged her free hand down his back, her fingernails scraping along his spine and sending shudders of pleasure through him.

Angel retaliated by suckling lightly at her nipples, alternating from one to the other. As she approached the peak of pleasure, he lifted his head, breaking the contact and making her cry out in frustration. Willow pulled her hand away from his head and wriggled it between their bodies, finding her slippery clit and rubbing it until she gasped and bucked against him.

Trailing hard kisses up her body, Angel smirked in delight as Willow rolled her head to the side, baring her neck for him. He latched onto her heated flesh, sucking strongly, bruising her with his hunger.

But, he didn't bite.

As he felt her climax again, shaking and clenching around his cock, he pounded into her and growled into her neck as he came.

Willow mewled and arched to him, reveling in the pleasure flowing through her and the feeling of his cool semen bathing her hot womb. As he continued to move in her with slow, shallow thrusts, she gasped weakly and forced her eye open.

Angel lifted his head and morphed, his fangs dripping saliva on her quickly paling face.

End Chapter 4


	6. The Visions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy has the amulet, Drusilla has a vision, Spike has a very odd dream, Willow...well, she and Angel aren't in this chapter because I'm totally evil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on July 19, 2002, rated R, includes a bit of birching. When I wrote this, I don't know where my brain was at, because I was at least half way done with it before I realized I'd used Joss' canon for Spike as a human so I made it a weird ass dream. To this day, I have no clue what I was doing.

Wiping the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand, Buffy slumped down on the couch in the Scooby Gang's corner of the Bronze.

"You look trashed," Cordelia remarked, sipping her latte.

Xander rolled his eyes and cuddled her close. "Tact, Cordy. Look it up."

"Uh huh."

"Lots of vampires. End of the world and all that crap," Buffy replied, rolling her head on the back of the couch and popping her neck. "Chased them for nearly three hours before I pinned them down at the water treatment plant."

Xander's look turned to one of concern. "Are you hurt?"

"Nah, just dusty, and happily no end of the world tonight." She flashed him a tired smile and pulled the necklace from her pocket to show them, before stuffing it back away. "I just dropped by to see if Willow and Spike were still here celebrating their anniversary."

"Oh yeah, let's celebrate the day we get turned into a sex toy for a vampire," Xander muttered.

Cordelia thwapped him. "We've been here since seven and we haven't seen them."

"Could have sworn Willow said they were coming here for some dancing after dinner."

"Undoubtedly they got so hot and bothered playing footsie during dinner, they decided to skip dancing and went straight back to his place."

Xander made a very unattractive face at his girlfriend's suggestion.

"Very pretty, Xan." Buffy yawned. "Well, I'm heading to the Library. I'm sure Giles will want to ooh and umm over this necklace, then I have to go home. Mom wants to talk colleges again."

"Doesn't she realize that Angel will never allow you to leave Sunnydale?" Cordelia asked.

Shrugging, Buffy groaned her way to her feet, stretching her stiff muscles. "I'm not sure she really entirely accepts just what he is."

"The evil undead thing violating her daughter?" Xander quipped.

Buffy glared at him and Cordelia wrapped her fingers in the front of his shirt and yanked his head down to hers.

"Xander, don't piss me off."

He grinned cheekily. "You like it when I piss you off."

Rolling her eyes, Buffy grabbed her bag and walked away, muttering, "And they think *my* relationship is weird..."

*****

Drusilla knelt in front of the cold fireplace, swaying slightly, a dreamy look on her face. The growing terror from the slip of a girl in her sire's bed slid over her like silk, making her shiver and giggle. It was completely intoxicating.

As she slipped to her side, rolling on the rug, a vision began to form before her glazed eyes.

She stood next to the fountain in the park, but, unlike every other night when the water tinkled merrily from the pretty flower shaped spouts into the copper basin, this time no water ran. The fountain base was cracked and the earth dry. Dead leaves and twigs were strewn across the path, and the antique looking lights were broken.

Only the dim light of the moon lit her way as Drusilla walked slowly along the broken pavement.

In the distance she heard a howl, then another, deep throaty sounds that were in no way human.

Werewolves.

Puzzled, Drusilla ran her hand along the back of a faded park bench and felt a jolt of electricity go through her. Two corpses formed before her eyes, slumped on the bench, in a lover's embrace.

Their throats were torn out, the blood long dried on their ragged clothing.

"They all die, y'know."

The familiar voice made her turn, her eyes lighting with hope, but she stumbled at the sight of him.

"Spike?"

She barely recognized him. He was pale and gaunt--skin and bones. His hair was a dirty blond and down to his shoulders. A feral look gleamed in his otherwise dull eyes as he staggered towards her dressed only in torn jeans.

She could easily count each rib bone.

"What happened here?"

"Chaos, luv. Destruction. Massacres. Hell on Earth."

"Why?"

Stumbling another few steps towards her, he ignored her question, whining softly instead, "Hungry."

A bolt of fear went through her, not for herself, but for the future, and she realized what really was so different about the park.

It was so silent.

She could hear Spike's shuffling footsteps, and the distant howling, but nothing else.

No heartbeats.

As Spike transformed into a hideous, starving monster, the vision faded, and Drusilla curled into a ball, whimpering.

*****

"So, what is it?"

Giles turned the necklace over in his hand, examining it with a jeweler's loop for several more minutes before setting both items down on the desk. "I don't know."

Rolling her eyes, Buffy slumped into a chair. "But, you can find out, right?"

He reached for his Watcher's journal. "Which crypt did they find this in again?"

"Van something...Schmuss? Schmidt?" At the look he gave her, she protested, "I was a bit busy chasing them. It was in Eternal Peace Cemetery, I'm sure." Then she frowned. "Or was it Peaceful Eternity?"

"Buffy..."

"We have too many freakin' cemeteries, Giles."

"Be that as it may, I need to know where this was found. Try meditating while I go find a book that might help."

As Giles rose to head to the cage, Buffy took a deep breath and forced herself to calm. By the time he returned hefting a large, dusty book, she was smiling.

"Eternal Peace, Van Schmuss."

"Giles smiled back and took his seat. "Very good."

"So, can I go? Mom, college talk."

Already engrossed in his book, he waved her away and Buffy grabbed her bag and headed for the door. "'Night!"

*****

Unconscious and free from the pain in his body and heart, Spike dreamed.

Human, young and carefree, he strolled through St. James Park toting his dinner in a metal lunch box. The sun burned through the haze of a summer's day in London, and the park was full of the scent of flowers. During the dinner hour, the City emptied itself of clerks and juniors, who headed to the parks of the West End to eat under sunny skies.

William made his way to the tea cart and got in the queue, nodding at an acquaintance and thinking about the lecture he planned to attend that night on a new set of fossils found in the Orkneys.

Life was good.

As he placed his order and reached for a coin in his pocket, the sky went red and an explosion of fire burst over the pond.

He could only watch in abject horror as everyone around him was burned to ash in one blinding instant. There wasn't even time for them to scream.

The trees caught on fire, the pond burned to steam, and the ground beneath his feet began to melt.

William slowly turned in a circle, mouth agape, shocked to the core, and saw that nothing remained. Buildings, trees, flowers, ducks, people...the park was a landscape of red and black.

He could feel the heat...but he wasn't burning.

Why wasn't he burning?

As his mind tried to process all that was happening, from out of the bank of steam where the pond had been strolled a beautiful woman. She had long, red hair and snapping green eyes and skin the color of white marble. William blushed at the outfit she wore, only a black corset and a matching skirt that barely covered her. Her limbs were exposed, and were long and shapely, ending in black shoes with thin, tall heels.

"Reversals," the woman said, her voice strangely accented.

"Pardon?"

"You human, me vamp." She laughed at her own joke and jumped lightly over a burning rock.

"I...I don't understand," William stammered, clutching his lunch box to his chest.

"It's a dream." She spun around, arms outstretched at her sides. "Hell is what we make it."

Suddenly she was in front of him, her hands on his shoulders, her thinly covered bosom pressed to his heaving chest, the hand holding the lunch box having slid to his side. His glasses slipped down his nose and she pushed them back up, giggling. "This isn't you."

"I...I'm fairly certain it is."

She laughed harder. "You're too young, too innocent, to have ever been my William." Rising on her toes, she pressed a hard, sensuous kiss to his lips, then pulled back, licking the taste from the corner of her mouth. "Virgin."

The shock of her kiss sent a bolt of anger through him, and he pulled back. "I am a good, Christian man, saving myself for marriage."

His righteous puffery made her laugh even harder and she danced through the flames. "Oh, William, wake up."

The fires went out and only ash remained. The air cooled in an instant, ice forming on what little hard surfaces there were, and the sky was lit only by a few stars. William blinked rapidly into the darkness, his heart pounding in his chest, and felt something shift inside him. Glancing down, he found himself clothed in jeans and a black t-shirt, and his heart no longer beat. The lunch box was replaced by a cigarette and he brought it to his lips.

"Fucking weird," Spike murmured.

"Alternate realities suck," Angel said, suddenly appearing beside him.

"I think I'm supposed to be hating you at the moment."

"Probably." The older male shrugged and looked around at the desolation. "Any clue what the fuck is going on?"

"Nope." Spike offered his sire his cigarette and the Angel took a grateful drag.

Drusilla wandered over to them wearing a white bra and tap panty set from the '20s and her hair in a tight bun. She carried a long switch, the kind used by teachers, and she lashed it down across Angel's knuckles, making him cry out and drop the cigarette. "Smoking behind the woodshed. Naughty, naughty. Ten with the birch rod. Over the stool." A tall stool appeared next to her.

Angel gave her an appalled look, then meekly dropped his trousers and placed his stomach over the stool, reaching down and grabbing the legs for support.

He howled at the first blow, then the second and third, and Spike chuckled in amusement and growing pleasure as the birch left ugly red marks on his sire's very white ass.

When she was done, Drusilla made him kiss the switch before allowing him to pull up his pants. He growled and rubbed his rear end as he did so.

"As amusing as that was, luv, what's going on?" Spike asked, watching Drusilla weave patterns in the air with the switch.

"Prophecy."

"Bloody Hell," Spike snorted, at the same time Angel cursed, "Fuck."

As she twirled the switch in her hand it began to change, thicken, the handle taking on carvings, the narrow birch turning to leather. A magnificent whip rested in her hand, its tail winding itself around her leg, cutting into her skin as if it was lashing her.

Drusilla didn't seem to notice the pain, simply caressed the demonic carvings on the handle, and whispered, "The five into one. A pentacle of power. Life and death and heart and stone. All at the appointed hour. The red and the black and the gold are we, and the world depends on our empathy."

Blood flowed down her leg and she whimpered. Suddenly filled with agony, she cried, "Or we all fall down. We all fall down."

As she crumpled, the dream changed and Spike found himself curled around Willow who slept in his arms. Contentment filled him and Drusilla's rambles faded as darkness beckoned.

*****

Several hours passed before Giles looked up from his book and rubbed his tired eyes. Sighing softly he picked up the necklace again, his finger tracing the pentacle. At each point was a diamond, and in the middle was a large, round emerald. On its back were carved several runes he had yet to decipher. They didn't appear to be in any human language nor were they of any of the demonic languages with which he was familiar.

A noise from the doorway caused him to swivel his head in alarm, then he relaxed and smiled tiredly.

"Hey Rupert."

"Jenny. What are you doing here?" He glanced at his watch. "Oh, dear."

"You said you'd be home by midnight." Her voice held only worry, no scolding, as she walked over to him and perched on the edge of the table. "It's nearly three."

"I'm trying to decipher the runes on this necklace. I think I found a minor prophecy that might deal with it."

Jenny took the necklace from him and examined it. "Pretty."

"Apocalyptic."

She smiled humorlessly. "Naturally."

"Or..." Giles shrugged his aching shoulders and smiled gratefully as she set down the gems to massage him. "There's some hint that it might be the way to avert an apocalypse."

"That would be different." She gently rubbed at the knot between his shoulder blades. "Y'know, Rupert, without me, you'd be one big crippled knot."

"And sexless." He smirked over his shoulder and she leaned down and kissed him.

"Couldn't have that. Come home?"

Tired but amorous, Giles nodded and placed the necklace in his pocket before rising to take her hand. "We can figure this out tomorrow. I doubt there's any urgency."

*****

Buffy awoke with a loud gasp and grabbed her chest. Her heart pounded against her hand, painful and loud as she panted harshly. Sitting up, she stared into the gloom of her room, a sense of desolation filling her.

Yet another dream of Willow as a vampire.

She didn't know how many more of these she could take.

As she lay back down, trying to calm down and force away the horrifying images of Willow snacking on her parents while Angel looked on indulgently, Buffy determined that she'd confront him the next night.

Somehow she had to convince him not to turn Willow.

End Chapter 5


	7. The Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continues where we left off in chapter 5 before the weird ass dreams and visions in chapter 6. Did Willow survive?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on July 23, 2002, rated R for angst and violence.

Sometime near dawn...

Burrowed beneath the blankets, Willow curled into a ball, waiting. Her skin was clammy, her breathing was ragged, and the fear inside her was nearly overwhelming her.

Why hadn't he done it yet?

A part of her just wished he would, so that it would be over and the anticipation and accompanying terror would be gone.

Propped on one elbow, the sheet draped low over his hips, Angel watched her shiver for a long time. As a lover she was responsive, if rather reluctant. Her body was too well trained to be otherwise.

But, her mind was nearing the point of hysteria.

The kindest thing to do would be to put her out of her misery and turn her.

He still couldn't figure out why he hadn't done so in the middle of the sex. He knew she'd expected it. She'd even turned her head and bared her neck in resignation.

But, all he'd done was come and collapse heavily on her. When he'd finally moved off of her, she'd blinked at him in exhausted incomprehension and wild terror. Finally it had become apparent to her that he wasn't going to do anything at that moment, and she'd drifted into a restless sleep. She'd fought it, her fear warring against the overwhelming languor, but finally she'd succumbed, whimpering softly as her eyes fell shut.

Angel knew she'd expected to awaken as a vampire.

Sighing heavily, Angel sat up, then slipped from the bed to pace.

Hearing him moving, Willow made herself as still as possible and peeked out from behind the blanket. Nude and graceful, Angel paced across the floor at the end of the bed, his brow furrowed, his hands clasped behind his back. She watched him for several minutes, unmoving, barely even breathing, until a cramp formed in her leg and she had to shift it.

At the rustle of material, Angel turned to face the bed and saw her cower, smelled her terror spike. Irrationally angered by her fear, he strode over to her and yanked her from the bed, digging his strong fingers into the soft part of her upper arms. Willow whimpered and balled up her fists, pressing them against his chest as she tried to squirm away from him.

"Your fear is an insult," Angel hissed, narrowing his eyes as she flinched back from his lowered face. "This is an auspicious day and you're mewling like a coward."

Willow stared at him, then punched him in the chest. He grunted, but didn't release her. "Do you even hear what you're saying?" she asked, incredulity knocking aside the fear for a moment. "Do you really expect me not to be afraid of losing my life? I'm sure you were all 'now take me now, oh dark goddess Darla'."

"Darla was blonde," Angel cut her off, surprised by her sudden calm.

Cocking one eyebrow Willow replied, "Uh huh, and I'm so sure they had Clairol Loving Care hair dye two hundred and fifty years ago."

Exasperated, Angel released her, and Willow grabbed her dress, pulling it over her head.

"That's only delaying the inevitable."

"Yeah?" she asked harshly. "Well, when *is* the inevitable, because it's been..." She glanced at her watch, "eight hours and the fear is literally killing me. Stop being a pussy and just do it."

One strong hand shot out and caught her around the throat, cutting off her air. Willow choked and clawed at the hand as Angel watched her impassively.

"Have I driven you as insane as my other daughter?" With a shake of his hand, he released her and she crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath and massaging her throat. Tears leaked from her eyes and she sobbed helplessly as the fear returned.

"I want to see Spike...please," she begged softly, dashing at the tears on her cheeks. "One last time, please."

Angel stared down at her, then rolled his eyes. He didn't remember making childer being this much of a pain in the ass. "Fine. He's across the hall."

Scrambling to her feet, Willow hurried out of the bedroom, through the sitting room and across the hall to the room Spike and Drusilla shared. Flinging open the door, she turned on the lights and stared in longing and fear at her lover chained by his wrists to the bedposts. He was slumped, his chin on his chest, and there were ugly bruises on his back.

Blood trickled slowly down his arms as the heavy iron of the manacles cut into his wrists.

As her scent enveloped him, Spike returned to full consciousness, and he lifted his head, trying to look over his shoulder to see her.

Willow was still human. Her heart was racing and fear was emanating from every pore, but she was still alive. As he scented her unique aroma, he smelled his sire all over her, his touch, his sex, but Spike didn't care.

Angel could fuck her twice nightly and six ways on Sunday as long as he kept her alive.

Ignoring Angel who was following her, Willow hurried over to Spike and climbed on the bed to face him. On her knees, she gazed bravely up into his sorrow-filled eyes, then sobbed his name and collapsed against him, her hands cupping his cheeks.

"Willow, Willow," Spike chanted her name, his voice cracking with emotion.

"William," she whimpered in response, peppering kisses over his face, their tears mingling as they pressed their cheeks together.

"Gag me."

They both ignored Angel's commentary, and kissed tenderly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his lips. "He...he..."

"I know, luv. It doesn't matter," Spike assured her.

Her face flamed and she pulled back from him slightly. "I tried not to...I didn't want to enjoy it."

"Don't ever apologize for that," he stressed softly. "Look at me, luv." When she lifted shame filled eyes to him, he tried to smile encouragingly. "I love you no matter what."

Fresh tears leaked down her hot cheeks. "I love you, too."

"You two are making me sick. Say your goodbyes, Willow," Angel snapped.

Spike stiffened, then tugged frantically on the chains. Willow's hands went up to his wrists and pulled on the manacles. Desperation flooded them both and they ignored Angel's approach. As Angel reached for Willow, Spike howled the word 'no' and wrenched the *unbreakable* chains from the solid wood bedposts.

Shocked, Angel gaped at his childe. "How the hell..."

As Willow flung herself out of the way, Spike launched himself at Angel and battered at him with fists wrapped in iron chains. "Love, you bastard. It can move mountains."

One hard, well-placed blow to the temple and Angel fell to the floor unconscious.

Stunned that it had been so easy, Spike gaped down at him, then began to unwind the chains and remove the manacles.

Willow slid from the bed and stared at Angel's still form, then turned panicked eyes to Spike. "What did you do?"

Dropping the chains, Spike ignored the pain in his body and grabbed for a pair of jeans and t-shirt, yanking them on. "Get my boots--by the closet door--and come on."

"I...I can't leave. *We* can't leave." Even as she protested, she moved to fetch his boots.

Spike grabbed his duster in one hand and her hand in the other and pulled her out the door. "We are." Together they ran down the stairs only to come to a quick halt at finding Drusilla in front of the door.

"Rebellion always has its price," she murmured, slipping aside to let them pass.

"Come with us, Dru," Spike begged as Willow opened the heavy door.

One slender pale hand brushed his cheek before she disappeared into the shadows. "My place is here...As is yours, my William. You will learn your lessons and eat your pain soon enough."

Shaking his head at her crypticism, Spike followed Willow outside and around to the garage and his car.

"Where are we going, Spike?"

"Out of here, out of town. Far away where he can't find us. Get in the car."

As she obeyed, Willow felt something tighten in her chest. She was afraid that there was nowhere on Earth that Angel wouldn't find them.

Spike gunned the engine and peeled out of the garage, aiming the car for the nearest highway out of Sunnydale.

*****

"Where are we going?" Willow finally asked again, about thirty miles East of Sunnydale.

"...Dunno." Intent on peering through the paint smeared across the windshield, Spike spared her a quick glance. Willow sat huddled in the corner of the front seat, her fingers playing nervously with the seat belt. There were goose bumps on her arms and her feet were bare. Spike cursed under his breath and turned on the heater.

"I don't think I'll ever feel warm again," Willow murmured after several more miles had passed.

"We'll be fine, luv. He won't find us, I swear," Spike replied earnestly, pressing his foot harder on the gas pedal.

"He'll be so angry."

Spike snorted. "I'm the one who's angry, Willow. I'm pissed as hell. You're my lover, my heart, my freakin' soul. He won't get you. I won't let him."

Touched by his passion, Willow turned her head to look at him through eyes brimming with tears. "You're turning your back on everything, William."

Reaching out, Spike gripped one of her hands, squeezing it gently. "No. I'm not, Willow. I'm keeping the most important thing."

Unbuckling her seat belt, Willow slid across the seat, and cuddled against him, as warm tears leaked slowly down her cheeks.

And Spike began to remember bits and pieces of his bizarre dream.

What the hell had that been about?

End of Chapter 6


	8. The Seer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel wakes up. He isn't happy. Buffy makes a discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on July 31, 2002, it's Angel/Dru with BDSM, vampire violence, whipping, graphic sex--all pretty much the norm between them. Also, Buffy has some unhappy revelations about herself. Also, again, I inadvertently created something that will become something much, much bigger (ashes, ashes, we all fall down).

Angel awakened to a splitting headache and the crooning of a nursery rhyme.

"Ashes, ashes, we all fall down..."

As he pushed himself up to a sitting position on the hard wood floor, the memories returned and he growled in fury.

Drusilla looked up from brushing the hair on one of her dolls. "Good afternoon, daddy."

"Where are they?"

"Flew away like bad little birds."

Vamping out, he grabbed her off the footstool she sat upon and jerked her to her knees. The doll and brush tumbled to the floor. "No games, Dru. Where did they go?"

"The stars didn't tell me and neither did Spike," she babbled. "They took the car and drove into the sunrise."

"East? They went East?" Releasing her, Angel jumped to his feet and, ignoring the pain in his head, hurried into his room to dress. The clock on the mantle showed that it was nearly three in the afternoon.

How in the seven hells had Spike laid him out for that long?

As he zipped his jeans, Angel slowly acknowledged that with a nearly ten hour jump on him, he wasn't going to find them anytime soon.

Changing tactics, Angel strode downstairs and into the room of the head minion, Lucius, the only one remaining from the old Master's minions, and the only one with even half a brain. Drusilla trailed behind him, swinging her doll in one hand.

Angel jerked the other vampire from his bedroom and barked his orders before Lucius could even think to protest his rude awakening.

"Get on the phone, the email, whatever, and alert the heads of the Aurellian septs to be on the lookout for Spike and his human toy. I want them captured but not killed, and no one is to harm the girl. Spike can be beaten to a bloody pulp, but not Willow."

"It won't help," Drusilla murmured.

"If I lose control over the clan, I will break every bone in Spike's body and then pull them through his skin one by one."

"...Pretty."

Shoving Lucian towards the phone, Angel turned and strode to the stairs leading to the basement which housed the minions. Three minutes later he returned, dragging a struggling pleading male with him.

"Please master, please. I couldn't have known. The spell..."

"Failed," Angel barked, dragging the minion towards the French doors. "You said you came from a long line of witches, that all you had to do was say the spell and it would last till you broke it."

"I do, I did." The terrified vampire tried to dig his heels into the smooth stone floor as Angel pulled him closer and closer to the sun. Behind them the rest of the household, awakened early by their master, milled around uneasily, murmuring in fear.

Drusilla perched herself on Angel's throne and picked at her fingernail polish.

"I don't tolerate failure," Angel growled as he pulled open the door, stepped out of the beam of sunlight and thrust the minion through the opening.

The vampire screamed and tried to rush back inside, but Angel slammed the door shut just as the minion's head burst into flames. Brushing off his hands, he tuned out the fading cries and eyed his remaining minions.

"So, anyone else have any skill with magic?"

*****

An hour later, Angel affixed the second cuff around his victim's wrist and stepped back to watch her tremble.

"Pull on them, babe."

At his husky command, Drusilla tugged hard at the manacles, cooing as the thick iron tore into her delicate wrists. After several minutes, she licked her lips as the scent of her blood enveloped her, then glanced over her shoulder. "I can't get free, daddy."

"Keep trying," Angel encouraged, and cracked a whip, making her squeal.

The next crack slashed across her shoulders and she screamed, her body wracked by a violent orgasm.

"...More..."

*****

Buffy stood in the middle of Willow's room eying the black lace teddy which lay on the bed, an item of lingerie she would never leave out for her mother to find. Her make-up was out on the vanity, a pile of damp towels was on the floor, and her new earrings remained in the box on her dresser.

Buffy knew that Willow had planned to wear them for their big anniversary.

Heart sinking, the Slayer slowly looked around the room for signs of a struggle. Her best friend was too neat to leave her room like this, even if Spike had come and swept her off her feet.

And she never forgot study dates which they'd set for the middle of the afternoon to give Willow plenty of time to recover from a night of passion.

Taking a shuddering breath, Buffy slipped from the room and headed towards the mansion. She was trying not to panic, but she simply knew that Angel had Willow and had captured her the night before.

That gave him plenty of time to turn her friend into a monster.

*****

Drusilla writhed beneath the whip as blood flowed down her back from numerous cuts. Her body both arched into and shrank away from each blow, her mind awash in pain and pleasure. The manacles around her wrists dug into her flesh as she slipped off her feet, but the chains and the posts held.

Halting the whipping for a moment, Angel tested the posts, yanking on the nearest one with all his strength.

It didn't move.

Nodding in approval, he turned his attention back to his childe.

She hung from the manacles, and he could see deep wounds in her slender wrists. Her back was a portrait painted with ichor, the blood turning black as it dried along the thin slash marks. She mewled in pain, but he could smell her arousal, and smiled as she shook with it.

Dropping the whip, Angel slipped out of his trousers and stepped behind her. With a sudden move, he jerked her back against him, rubbing his erection against her wounded back.

Drusilla's head shot up and she screamed in pain.

Smirking, Angel wrapped one arm around her waist and slipped the other hand between her thighs. Her lust dripped onto his fingers and sent a jolt of pleasure through his cock.

"Daddy," she whimpered, unconsciously rubbing against him despite the pain it caused her.

"Open up, Dru," Angel whispered, guiding his cock between her legs. As she slipped them further apart, the strain on her wrists and shoulders grew, and she moaned in pain.

"Fuck me, please, oh please..."

With a grunt, Angel slammed into her, driving her nearly off her feet. Drusilla howled and wriggled in his hands, her fingers wrapping around the chains as he thrust powerfully, hurting her and pleasuring her with each slam of his pelvis against her striped bottom.

Reaching up, Angel grabbed the chains above Drusilla's hands and pulled on them, using them as leverage as he brutally fucked his childe.

The posts creaked, but they held.

Angel pressed against her back, smearing blood across his chest, and buried his mouth in the side of her neck. Whimpering, Drusilla bucked against him, her body quivering with desire. As her sire's fangs bit deeply, she howled and shuddered into orgasm.

Drinking deeply of her rich blood, Angel let his eyes roll up and his toes curl as his own climax shot from him. Sighing deeply, he slowly pulled away from her, leaving Drusilla whimpering and shivering in the chains. As he slumped into a chair, he grinned lazily at the sight of his seed mingling with her blood and sliding down her inner thighs.

Inspired, he reached for a conveniently placed sketch pad and pencil.

*****

After leaving Willow's, Buffy wandered the streets of Sunnydale. No doubt in her mind what had occurred the night before, she didn't want to face the destruction of her best friend.

But, she also couldn't face her Watcher.

A sense of failure consumed her, and she held back bitter tears as she walked, head down, lost in her pain and fear.

Buffy knew she could have prevented all of this, if she had only found the strength to kill Angel. How many opportunities had she had, sharing his bed while he slept the sleep of the dead?

To hell with the world. Wasn't her best friend worth more than that?

...No, and Willow would be the first to say so.

But, it still hurt so very much.

And, the betrayal that Buffy felt hurt even more. She had fervently hoped that Angel's love for her would stop him from pursuing Willow. She had placed too much faith in that love.

Her relationship with Angel had to end. She couldn't forgive him this. It didn't matter that he had never said he would give up his right to Willow. Buffy had believed that her love meant something stronger to him.

She was so wrong, and her heart thudded painfully in her chest, squeezing tighter and tighter as she fought back the urge to scream in pain and misery.

And self-hatred. It was a familiar emotion, and Buffy let it seep inside her and eat away at her self-esteem.

She was a whore who loved a monster, and she didn't know what hurt more, that she would lose that monster or that she'd lost her best friend. Buffy silently castigated herself for being so selfish to care about her own love at the moment.

But, she couldn't help herself.

It felt like her world had ended.

End Chapter 7


	9. The Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy confronts Angel. It's not pleasant, as they take out their aggression on each other the best way they know how.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on August 3, 2002. This was the last chapter I had written before I started posting. I had only out of order bits of fic left. I was also being bribed with lovely pictures and wonderful feedback so was posting more quickly than I'd planned. This chapter is NC17 with Buffy/Angel hate sex so it was dedicated to those who loved my version of that pairing in this series, in all their darkness.

Quiet as a mouse, Buffy snuck into the mansion. Even though she'd walked aimlessly for over an hour, it was still daylight out, so she hoped the minions and fledglings were still asleep in the basement. Creeping up the stairs, she headed unerringly for Angel's suite. The outer room was empty and dark, and she walked through it, every sense on the alert for movement and sound.

Angel's bedroom was lit by a single candle on the night stand, but Buffy could see that the bed was empty, though the covers were mussed and the pillows dented by two heads.

Her heart thudded into her stomach and she swallowed hard, blinking back bitter tears.

She knew deep inside that the second head had been Willow's.

"Come to rescue the little bitch?" Angel's soft voice hissed from the shadows in the far corner. "Too late."

"Wh--where is she?" Buffy stammered, turning to face the direction of the voice.

Angel stepped out of the darkness, only his pale face visible, his black clothes and hair fading into the background. "I told you it was only a matter of time."

Buffy's hands clenched into fists as fury filled her. "Bastard."

Sighing, Angel took another step towards her. "Buffy, Buffy, you knew she was mine."

"I hoped..." She choked and forced herself to continue, reining in her desire to pound his face into the floor. "I hoped I really meant something to you."

"I love you," he said it as if it was a curse, his lips tightening into an angry line. "One has nothing to do with the other. Willow made a deal with me, and it was her idea, not mine. You were there."

"She was desperate," Buffy cried. "You wouldn't have helped him."

"If I'd known the direction my relationship Spike would take, I would have given him my blood willingly, but hindsight is never helpful."

"Do you really think the demon community and your own minions care that you force one little girl to keep her bargain with you?"

"We're evil creatures, Buffy. Our word is all we have. We can't swear in god's name or on our souls, but when we make deals, we keep them and we make sure they're kept by all parties. There's a reason it's called a deal with the devil."

"You're not the devil. You're just another vampire," she lashed out.

In a blink of an eye, Angel was before her, grabbing her fist before she could lash it across his face. Twisting her arm behind her back, he jerked her against his body and growled, "Don't push me, lover."

"I hate you," she yelled, eyes glittering with fury as she struggled against him. Wrenching free, she kicked out at him and he caught her foot, spinning her to the floor. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder from hitting the hard wood, she kicked out again, catching him behind the knees and knocking him down.

They came together on their knees, hands gripping each other's wrists in bruising holds. Angel snarled and Buffy answered him back.

And then he kissed her, hard and hungry, and she responded mindlessly, biting at his lips with her teeth and hissing into his mouth. Their bodies molded together as heat exploded between them.

They both released their hold at the same time and began to tug at each other's clothes. Her jacket easily skimmed down her arms, Angel clawed at her shirt, ripping it at the shoulder seam as he pulled it from her. Buffy shoved his top over his head, then toppled him onto his back.

Straddling his body, she continued to kiss him as she fumbled with the zipper of his black jeans. He grabbed her hips, tugging down her running pants and underwear. As she squirmed out of them, he lifted his hips so she could pull down his jeans.

Burying her mouth in Angel's throat, Buffy wrapped her hand around his erect cock and impaled herself on it. She keened loudly, then rose above him, eyes closed, mind blank. Angel's hands cupped her lace enclosed breasts, squeezing them as she moved on him quick and hard, slamming her hips down. Growling in lust, Angel arched, meeting her thrusts, his fingers tightening and bruising her tender flesh.

As pleasure rapidly grew in her, a bit of sanity returned and Buffy bit deeply into her lower lip until it bled. "Bastard," she hissed, continuing to ride him. "I hate you, hate you, hate you." Tears leaked from her eyes and she dug her fingernails into Angel's skin, raking them down his chest.

Angel howled and grabbed her around the waist, rising to a sitting position. "Open your eyes," he demanded, slamming her down on his cock.

Groaning in pleasure at the new position, Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist and her fingers around his throat. Her eyes opened and she glared down at him.

He glared back with the golden eyes of his demon and smashed his mouth over hers in a brutal kiss of dominance. "You're mine."

"Hate you."

"I don't fucking care." Wrapping one hand in her loose hair, he yanked her head back and scraped his fangs along her carotid artery. "MINE." With that howl, he shifted back to human and bit deeply with his blunt teeth.

Buffy screamed and clung to him, clawing at him as her orgasm built. The friction of their bodies moving together, hers damp with perspiration, his cool and hard, and the feel of his teeth in her skin, bruising her, made her shudder with need, and she writhed on his lap.

Lifting his head, Angel stared down into her liquid eyes, saw the desire and despair there, and gentled his movements in her. Taking her hips, he controlled her plunging, and rubbed their bodies together. "Mine," he whispered before kissing her tenderly, tangling their tongues as their lips clung together.

The eroticism and tenderness of the kiss sent Buffy over the edge and she trembled and bucked in his arms, sobbing in ecstasy.

As she slumped limply against him, Angel shifted them again, laying her gently on the floor and coming over her. Sliding back into her, he thrust back and forth, groaning as her inner muscles clenched around him, milking him of his pleasure. With a soft growl of lust, he shuddered atop her as he spilled himself into her.

Lowering his head, he kissed her slack lips, then rolled onto his back, panting softly.

Slowly Buffy came back to her senses and moaned in horror and shame. Sitting up, she scrambled for her clothes, jerking them on as tears burned in the corners of her eyes.

How could she have done this?

Sorrow nearly choked her, but she forced out, "I want to see her."

"No you don't." Angel rose to his knees and pulled up his jeans, zipping them closed.

"You've destroyed us."

"Stop being so fucking melodramatic," he growled, standing and stalking to the dresser for his cigarettes.

"You killed my best friend," Buffy yelled, grabbing her jacket and jamming her arms into the sleeves. "You think I'll just get over this? That you're so fucking good in bed, that I'll accept what you've done?"

Glaring at her, he lit a cigarette and drew deeply on it before responding coldly, "Yeah, I do. You'll do anything for me, remember, Buff?"

She glared back, her eyes glittering with hatred and tears. "You nearly broke me last year, and, yeah, back then I would have accepted and hated myself for wanting you. But then you rebuilt me. You wanted me strong and independent, and the strong and independent Buffy wants nothing to do with you." Spitting the last few words at him, she strode towards the door, only to find him blocking her way.

She almost smiled at the fear in his eyes as he grabbed her and jerked her mouth to his. He tasted of smoke and hunger and his kiss was possessive and needy.

Buffy bit his tongue.

Crying out in pain and shock, Angel yanked his head back and blood spilled down his chin. Buffy grinned nastily up at him and knocked his arms up, freeing herself from his grip.

"Get the fuck out of my way."

Wiping the blood from his lips and chin, Angel glared furiously at her, then slowly stepped aside. As she stormed past, he yelled, "This isn't over, lover, not by a long shot. You belong to me."

"Go fuck yourself."

Fury sustained her as she made her way down the stairs, uncaring if she encountered any vampires. Once outside in the dim winter sunlight, her anger began to fade, replaced by a deep and growing pain.

Her pace slowed and her arms wrapped around her waist as finally the bottled tears and sobs broke free from deep inside her soul.

"Willow..."

End of Chapter 8


	10. The Best Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy weeps, Angel broods, the stars of the series go at it in the shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on August 12, 2002. NC17 for Willow/Spike smut. 
> 
> Original dedication: To Peygan as always--really loved this week's Angel! And to Indie for loving my B/A(us) and to Amy for calling me a sadist *grin* and to Starcrossed for making me think about what Angel's going through.
> 
> Original Notes: I figured out how to end the series and make it work! Before now I had only a vague idea. So...just gotta write it!
> 
> It only took me two more months.

As the sun began to sink behind the tall buildings downtown, Buffy pushed herself away from the wall she'd been leaning against crying, and started to walk. She felt ancient, her body aching, her nerves shot, her mind a jumbled mass of confused emotions.

Tears continued to slide down her chapped cheeks, burning her sore eyes and raw, bitten lips. Her best friend, her...Willow...she was gone.

Gone.

Buffy moaned, a long, painful sound, and her tears momentarily blinded her.

She had failed.

Every human death she had been unable to prevent since being called hurt her, but this...this was too much. This was too real.

When Buffy had made a conscious decision to allow Angel to live, something had died in her, but something new had been born. A darkness, a strength of will and determination, and a view of the world that not everyone could be saved. Sacrificing the world for one person didn't work. She began to focus on the whole and not the individual.

It made her a more successful Slayer in every way except quotas.

But to sacrifice someone so dear to her...

She would never be prepared for that.

So, like Willow herself, Buffy had practiced a narrow form of denial and lived day to day. She trained, she slew, she went to school, she hung out with her friends, she loved Angel...

Yet buried deep inside herself she knew it wasn't forever. Someday something would happen to burn away the mists of denial.

Someday was today.

And the something was the turning of Willow.

Buffy's world would never be the same.

*****

Sitting in the dark of his bedroom, Angel brooded and chain- smoked.

It gave him something to do with his hands so they didn't dig into his chest and rip out his shriveled heart.

For nearly a year he'd successfully avoided accepting that he loved Buffy. He lusted after her, he liked her spunkiness, he wanted to fuck her till she screamed herself hoarse, but love wasn't in the cards. Love was for the weak.

You couldn't rule a Hellmouth and love someone.

He *knew* this.

So...

So, why had he opened himself to love?

To love opened oneself to pain and misery.

And fear.

The fear of losing Buffy had been a near constant for him, except for those few weeks the previous Spring when she'd been so broken and submissive to him that he knew she was his forever.

Until Spike had pointed out that she was slowly dying.

That's when the fear truly begun to manifest, when the knowledge of the brevity of her life began to leak into his mind. For months he denied it, then he railed against it, then he fought it, and finally, to save her from himself, he admitted he loved her.

But, that only made the fear become stronger, because now he knew that if he lost her...

If she left him...

If she died...

Two hundred and fifty years of existence before he knew her and only two since, and he knew that he couldn't live without her. Life would be pointless.

His favorite childe had taught him that.

A haunted smile crossed his face and he lit another cigarette.

Spike would die for Willow, and, more importantly, he wouldn't want to survive without her. Without her human and sweet and sassy and sexy.

Once turned, whether she retained her love for him or not, she wouldn't be the same.

Angel understood that. He couldn't bear the thought of Buffy being turned, either. Although vampire childer retained much of the personality of the humans they had been, the changes were sometimes hard to accept by those that had known them previously.

That was the main reason it was traditional to kill one's family and close friends, in order to divest oneself of human ties.

It was why humans and vampires weren't supposed to mix. They weren't supposed to become friends and they certainly weren't supposed to become lovers.

What the fuck was wrong with the childer of Aurelius?

Humans were food, they were fucking animals!

Yet the thought of feeding from Buffy made Angel's stomach turn.

And the thought of losing her...that was going to kill him.

He was fucked. Well and truly fucked.

*****

Willow awoke to the uncomfortable feeling of something digging into her hip. Blinking open her eyes she saw that it was Spike's knee. She shifted away from it and let her eyes drift around the darkened room. It appeared to be a cheap motel room and reminded her of the ones they visited early in their relationship.

Even down to the same sad clown picture hanging on the wall.

Yawning, Willow pushed herself up and off the bed. After using the bathroom, she walked over to the window and carefully peeked outside. The sun was still up, shining harshly down on the battered Cadillac parked at the curb, but it looked to be afternoon. Beyond the small parking lot was blue sky and dusty ground with not much green growing in it.

It looked like they were in the desert.

Willow yawned again and stretched her cramped muscles. The tension had really done a number on her. She ached all over as if she'd been beaten, and she felt incredibly grungy. Pulling her wrinkled dress over her head, she walked back into the bathroom to take a shower.

The water came at an unsteady drip, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and Willow stepped into the cracked tub and reached for the soap chips left by previous visitors. Lathering up her hands, she began to wash, ridding her body of every remnant of Angel and trying not to think about him.

As she rinsed soap from her hair, the shower curtain was drawn back, letting in a breeze of semi-cool air, and she glanced up to see Spike watching her from beneath hooded eyes. He was nude, his cock resting heavily against one thigh. Under her gaze, it began to swell, and he stepped into the tub.

Willow moaned and backed up against the wall. The tiles were cold and she squeaked, but kept herself pressed there as her heartbeat increased and her breathing grew heavy with budding desire.

Reaching out a finger, Spike wiped away a soap bubble from one of her nipples which immediately hardened. He flicked the sensitive nubbin, and she whimpered, reaching out and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Make me forget his touch," she whispered before pressing her lips to his.

Opening beneath her mouth, Spike kissed her back hungrily, his hands gripping her hips and pressing her against his erection. She squirmed, sending pulses of pleasure through both of them, and slipped her fingers into his soft hair, massaging his scalp as their tongues twisted together.

As she gasped his name, he trailed his lips down her jawline to her collarbone, and noticed for the first time that the leather collar was missing.

"Willow?"

She looked up at him with sorrow-filled eyes and murmured, "It feels weird without it."

One of Spike's thumbs rubbed gently against an old scar, then he tenderly kissed her cheek. "We'll get you another one, luv, if you want."

Nodding, she shyly lifted her left hand. "And my ring."

"That as well. They're only symbols. What matters is that we're together and that we love each other."

"Always," she choked out, tightening her arms around him and pulling his mouth back to hers.

Catching one of her hips in his hand, Spike lifted her effortlessly and slipped her gently onto his cock. As Willow whimpered and clung to him, he pressed her against the wall and began to make love to her slowly, undulating their bodies together. Breaking their kiss, he buried his mouth in her shoulder, gasping softly against her wet skin as the shower continued to trickle over them.

Willow arched her back and her head, letting him guide their pace as the pleasure built slowly between them. She felt Spike's teeth scrape along her shoulder, and a bolt of desire went through her, making her buck against him, her leg wrapping around his waist. Her hands kneaded his shoulders as his did the same to her hips, and they both gasped simultaneously as their passion mounted.

Spike began to thrust faster, deeper, pushing her harder against the wall as his control slipped. Willow keened softly as each thrust drove the base of his cock against her sensitive clit, making it swell and pulse with need. Flinging his head back, Spike growled lustily as his orgasm approached on a rush. He slammed into her harder and she responded with a wild shudder and the clenching of her inner muscles around his cock.

"Now," Willow begged. "Please...oh god, please..."

Capturing her lips in a final hard kiss, Spike slipped one hand between them and pinched her clit. That was all she needed to spiral over the edge of pleasure into an intense orgasm. As Willow trembled and whimpered in his arms, Spike let his own pleasure sweep over him and he sank nearly insensate against her, panting into her neck.

As a cramp formed in her leg, Willow lowered it to the tub bottom and shook it, forcing Spike's softening cock to slide from her. Replete and momentarily happy, Willow cradled his head to her shoulder and stroked his trembling back.

"I can't lose you, Willow," Spike muttered hoarsely, tightening his arms around her waist again.

"You won't," she promised, but even to her that promise rang hollow, and she closed her eyes, trying to revel in the moment and forget there was a future.

End Chapter 9


	11. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy faces her Watcher and gets interrupted by a phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on August 18, 2002 with the note of "Slight problem: I have nothing written of the next chapter." This chapter PG13, no smut, a little angst.

Dragging her feet, her shoulders slumped, a headache pounding in her temples, Buffy entered the school and made her way to the Library. It was the last place she wanted to be. She had thought that facing Giles' with the truth last summer had been the hardest thing she'd ever done, but this was so much worse.

The brightest among them had fallen.

'We all fall down'.

Buffy frowned as the incongruous snippet of a nursery rhyme popped into her head, then shook it away and pushed open the Library door.

Giles barely glanced her way. Jenny gave her a quick smile, then returned to her computer. At the far end of the book and parchment strewn table Cordelia and Xander were playing footsie while pretending to research.

It all looked so normal.

Fresh tears welled in Buffy's eyes as she took a faltering step towards her friends.

"Hey, Buffster. Come to join the hella fun research party?" Xander asked as he stuffed a handful of chips in his mouth.

Cordelia jabbed Xander in the stomach. "If you don't stop eating like that, you're not only going to sound like Cartman, you're going to look like him." She grabbed the chip bag away from him.

"Stop bogarting the cheesy poofs," he whined.

"Do you know what's in these things?"

"And all this has to do with the amulet how?" Giles asked cooly, trying not to smile at the chagrined looks the couple give him before digging back into their respective stacks of books. Turning his attention to Buffy, he began, "Buffy, have you seen Will..." The stricken look on her face finally got his attention.

Unable to stand any longer, Buffy slumped into a chair, the bottled tears finally flowing down her cheeks.

"What's happened?" Giles asked, fear staining his voice.

"Wuh...wuh...Willow," she wailed, burying her face in her hands.

All activity at the table stopped. Cordelia's sharply indrawn breath was the only sound for a long moment, before Giles swallowed hard and asked, "What's happened to Willow?

Buffy struggled to compose herself, but all she got out was, "Angel," before she began to cry harder.

Giles blanched and barely felt Jenny's comforting hand on his wrist. Behind him Xander and Cordelia both began to talk at once, panicked, but he ignored them, all his attention on Buffy.

"What did he do?" he managed through gritted teeth.

Buffy only sobbed louder and Giles reached out and grabbed her shoulders, shaking her.

"What did he do?"

His roar of anger and frustration brought Buffy back to awareness and she gulped and sniffled as he shook her again.

"Rupert," Jenny admonished softly.

Feeling his fingers bite into her upper arms, Buffy welcomed the pain and lifted horror-laden eyes to him. "He turned her, Giles. He turned Willow." As she collapsed into his embrace, weeping softly now, the telephone rang.

Stunned by Buffy's statement, desperately wanting to deny the truth, Jenny rose on automatic to answer the phone on the check-out counter.

"This can't be happening," Xander muttered, turning to gaze dully at the silent tears streaking down his girlfriend's cheeks. "I'll kill him. I'll gut the bastard!" One fist pounded the table, the other reached for a stake.

Cordelia grabbed him and hugged him tightly as he broke down.

"Hello?" Jenny forced out, her mind muddled, her fingers clenching around the receiver.

"Jenny? It's Willow."

"Willow?"

Buffy's head jerked up and she yanked away from Giles. "Hang up," she yelled, as she jumped to her feet. "That's not Willow."

Standing in an old-fashioned phone booth, Willow gave the phone a puzzled look as Buffy's muted yell reached her. "Jenny? What's going on?"

Grabbing the phone away from a stunned Jenny, Buffy spat into the receiver, "Don't call us again," before slamming it down. Anger drove away her tears, and she stormed to the weapon's locker.

Giles pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, his logical mind fighting through the sorrow. "I don't understand. We saw her here yesterday afternoon, so it's only been a day. Why would he make her a minion?"

"What?" Buffy spun around, gaping at him.

Slipping easily into Watcher mode, he responded, "It takes at least two full days for a childe to be made. He's said all along he wants her for her intelligence. A minion has very little of that."

It took Willow about ninety seconds to figure it out, and she paled, then reddened in anger at Angel. Digging into the pocket of the faded jeans she'd bought at a second hand store, she pulled out some more change, then redialed the number.

The phone rang again and all attention turned to it. Finally, after six rings, Buffy went and answered it.

"What?" she asked harshly.

"Buffy, don't hang up. It's really me. Angel didn't turn me. I'm sure that's what you're thinking, but that's not what happened, I swear," Willow replied quickly, her fingers tightening around the handset.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Why would I lie?"

"I wouldn't put anything past Angel," Buffy growled, a feeling of helplessness growing in her as she listened to the familiar voice.

"Buffy, think about it. Angel grabbed me less than twenty-four hours ago. I'd be a minion now, too brainless to be this cunning."

"Angel could be standing over you, prompting you."

"Why would he do that? Why would he piss you off any further? Buffy, please," Willow begged. "I'm not a vampire, I swear to God."

Buffy's hand began to shake and she leaned heavily against the counter as the emotion in Willow's voice finally began to get through to her. "Will..?"

"Do you believe me? Please believe me."

"I...don't know. I want to."

"Angel grabbed me but he didn't turn me. Sometime before dawn I finally got him to allow me to see Spike. Spike broke free of the chains Angel'd used to subdue him, and knocked him out. We escaped. We're...well, I can't tell you where we are, but we're going to keep running."

"He lied to me," Buffy whispered, hope blossoming in her.

"You've seen Angel?" Without waiting for an answer, Willow continued, "Did he show you my body? He couldn't, could he."

"That son of a bitch. He led me to believe...Oh, God, Willow. You're really okay?"

"I'm fine," Willow sobbed through her happy grin. "I'm safe. I'm with the man I love."

The phone pinged in her ear and Willow dug into her pockets for more change, but came up empty. "I'm out of money. I gotta go."

"No."

"I love you, Buffy. I'll be fine and in touch in a couple of days hopefully."

Before Buffy could respond, the connection was cut and she stared blankly at the phone before turning to face her friends, who had all gathered around her. A smile lit her face. "She's fine."

"You believe her?" Giles asked.

Nodding, Buffy set down the receiver. "Yeah, it was really her, and she's right, why would Angel have her call me to torment me? I'm mad enough at him."

"What happened?" Xander asked, wrapping his arms around Cordelia's waist from behind, trying to stop shaking.

Buffy shook her head. "Angel did capture her last night like I thought, but he didn't turn her, and she and Spike got away sometime early this morning. She wouldn't tell me where they are. Probably a good thing."

Picking up on one thread of the one-sided conversation between his slayer and her best friend, Giles asked, "Did you go see Angel today?"

"Yeah, I confronted him."

She frowned as her Watcher sighed.

"Buffy, that was very foolish."

"I didn't know they'd gotten away."

"Which made him even more dangerous."

"He didn't hurt me." Buffy dropped her eyes as she felt a blush creep up her face.

"Angel's made his intentions pretty damn clear that now's the time for Willow to make good on her promise. I say we stake him before he can do that," Xander ranted.

"No." Buffy flushed even more at Xander's angry, pointed look. "We just got through a battle with the Watcher's Council where we convinced them that Angel being alive and running the show here is the best way to go. If I stake him, god knows what we'll get to replace him." She took a deep breath. "I just have to convince him that turning Willow isn't what he really wants."

"And how are you going to do that?" Giles asked, then flushed, and stammered, "Ah, yes."

"This is a lame plan," Cordelia stated with an eye roll. "Angel holds all the cards."

"I'll dump his ass."

The cheerleader gave the Slayer a very pointed look. "Yeah, that'll work."

"You got a better idea?"

Slowly Cordelia lowered her eyes and stepped out of Xander's embrace. "Yeah. We accept that we can't stop Angel."

Giving a shocked cry, Xander spun her around to face him. "Are you nuts?"

"Surrender is not an option," Giles added.

She looked over her shoulder at the protesting older man. "You'd be the first one to say that we can't risk the world for the life of one person, Giles."

"It's Willow," Xander protested, shaking her slightly.

"It doesn't matter."

"Cold bitch," he bit out, freeing her to stalk out of the room.

Cordelia gave the remaining three a cool look.

"You're right, of course," Giles murmured sadly, walking past her and back to the table. Giving the two girls a sorrow filled look, Jenny followed him.

"You know I'm right, Buffy."

Buffy stared at her friend and, seeing the deep pain in her brown eyes, conceded. "Yeah, I do, but hopefully it's all mootville."

"You really think Willow and Spike can elude Angel forever?"

"Gotta have hope."

*****

Disturbed by the too-brief conversation and already missing her friends, Willow wandered back across the road to the motel where she'd left Spike sleeping in order to get something to eat and something to wear. Underwear, even used, was a vital necessity.

She didn't know how Drusilla ran around without any.

As she walked through the dusty parking lot, she eyed the setting sun in the West and picked up speed. Willow didn't think there were any vampires around, but without the collar she felt vulnerable for the first time in three months.

Opening the door to their room, she found Spike sitting on the edge of the bed in his jeans, running a hand over his face. His fingers traced a healing wound down one cheek and he scowled.

"Don't worry, you're still gorgeous," Willow tried to lighten the mood.

It worked. Spike flashed her a quick grin, then ran his eyes over her jeans and long sleeve t-shirt. "Been shopping?"

"I know we don't have much money, but I couldn't bear to wear that dress another minute. I went to the used clothes run by the local church."

"No need to apologize, luv. Did you get something to eat, too?"

Willow nodded and frowned. "What are you going to do for food?"

Spike looked away from her as he rose and pulled on his shirt.

"You can feed on me," she suggested softly.

He spun on her, eyes blazing, and she shrank from the intensity. "Never."

"You bite me all the time."

"For pleasure, not for food. Never for food, Willow." Shaking his head, Spike stomped a foot into a boot. "Anyway, I'll be fine for another day or two. I don't dare hunt this close to Angelus' territory anyway."

"So, we keep moving?"

Lacing up his other boot, Spike nodded. "Yep. Use the loo, because we're not stopping till dawn."

End Chapter 10


	12. The Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy confronts Angel again, and the poor master of Sunnydale suddenly has relations dropping in out of the blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on August 31, 2002, rated R with Buffy/Angelus, Spike/Willow, and Drusilla/Angelus. 
> 
> Original Notes: This got even more angsty than I planned, and there's this middle section which is quite silly. I don't know where that part came from. Also, Spike's car doesn't have the black-out stuff on the windows in this 'verse.

It was dark by the time Buffy left the school. Cordelia had gone home, certain that Xander would come crawling for forgiveness before the night was out. Buffy wasn't so sure of that. Xander had a real blind spot where Willow was concerned.

Jenny had finally dragged Giles out to dinner and a movie, insisting he would go blind if he stared at his books much longer.

Buffy had said she would do a quick patrol, but she walked quickly past five cemeteries on her way to Crawford Street.

There was logic in letting Angel remain in the dark about her knowing the truth, but when had logic ever been a part of their relationship?

No, it was time to go beat the shit out of him for letting her believe he'd destroyed her best friend.

And maybe, just maybe, she could convince him not to go through with it.

*****

Drusilla sat primly on her daddy's knee, her hands folded in her lap and her skirts to her crossed ankles, as he slipped one hand down the front of her bodice and lazily fondled one of her breasts. Her eyes were closed and she had a blissful smile on her face, neither one caring that various minions kept coming and going from the throne room.

Angel listened with half an ear to his secretary, Marvin, going on and on about the next night's reception for the delegation of Dragui demons, and felt a curl of lust stirring in his groin as Drusilla's nipple hardened and poked into his finger.

As Marvin finished, Gary the less retarded of those vampires designated as footmen, stuck his head in the doorway, then hesitantly approached when Angel beckoned for him with his free hand.

"Master, there's a vampiress here. She won't give her name, only says that..." He struggled to remember her exact words. "Venus sang to her to come to the mouth of hell and dance with the eyeless ones."

Drusilla's eyes popped open and she tugged Angel's hand from her dress before hopping off his lap and scampering to the door crying, "Amelia?"

A tall willowy blonde slipped into the room. She wore a modern red catsuit that accentuated all her assets and her hair was cut in a fashionable bob, but her manner was just the same as the brunette's who was clapping her hands and bouncing up and down.

"Sire," the blonde breathed, curtseying as if she was facing the queen.

Which, once upon a time, she had.

Queen Victoria, that was.

Drusilla drew her favorite childe up and into her arms. "Amelia, Amelia, you're here!"

"Venus called and told me to come. Something important is about to happen," Amelia whispered conspiratorially, as the two females began to dance to music only they could hear. "So, I left my whelps in St. Petersburg, and came to you."

"Venus the planet called you?" Angel asked, regarding the females cooly.

Having Drusilla's mad childer around always made him a bit uncomfortable. He was afraid the insanity might be contagious.

"No, grandsire, Venus my friend at one eight hundred psychic star."

"Of course."

Pulling away from her sire, Amelia dropped into another curtsey before Angel, her head bowed, as she murmured, "Master."

"You are welcome here, of course, childe of Drusilla," he muttered the traditional words, and Amelia bounced up, turning back to Drusilla.

"Shall we make love until the stars scream in ecstasy, mummy?"

Laughing gleefully, the brunette tripped lightly up the stairs followed by her beautiful childe.

Angel stared after them, then frowned and adjusted his crotch, trying to will away his erection. Didn't look like he'd be getting any tonight, not unless he wanted to take on both of them. He shuddered at the memory of the last time Drusilla and Amelia had teamed up on him. He'd been dressed in a nappy and spanked like a baby while they fucked each other to oblivion.

He really hoped no more of Drusilla's childer came out of the woodwork. All he needed to make his unlife the perfect hell was for Lyle who thought he was a dog and tended to hump anyone not moving to show up or Percy, the mad as a hatter poet from Buckinghamshire who named bugs before dining on them to arrive and present him with a fresh batch of beetles.

"The mail is here, master," Marvin said, interrupting Angel's dark thoughts. As he walked across the floor, the minion went through the stack of envelopes, catalogs and magazines, pulling out the bills he didn't need to bother his master with. Stuck between Sports Illustrated and the latest Victoria's Secret catalog was an ivory vellum envelope with old-fashioned script in heavy ink. It was addressed to Angelus.

"Edinburgh? Why would anyone want to be in Edinburgh in February?" he mumbled to himself.

"Because there's only five minutes of sun per day," Angel responded, holding out his hand. "Who's in Edinburgh?"

"A...Christian Penn?" Marvin said as he handed over the letter.

Angel nearly dropped it.

What was this? Childer come home to roost day? He opened the letter from the childe he hadn't heard from in one hundred years, and began to read.

*****

Buffy stood outside the side door of the mansion debating for several minutes. Storm the gates or sneak attack?

Finally she hefted the sword she carried over one shoulder and kicked in the French doors. Glass shattered and one of the panels broke free from the bottom hinge. Inside, the four minions fell back, startled.

One of them stammered, "It's the Slayer."

"Give the thing a cookie," she growled, her eyes falling on and driving into the vampire seated on the throne.

"I don't need this," Angel growled back, making a dismissive gesture with his hand and setting aside the letter from Penn. The boy was suddenly and oddly feeling nostalgic, and wondered if Angelus felt a need for him in Sunnydale.

"Tough shit."

"It's the Slayer," minion number two babbled, dropping a pile of magazines on the floor.

"Are you letting Dru make the minions these days?" Buffy sniped, striding towards Angel and sending the vampires scattering. One attempted to sneak up behind her and she flung a fist back and smashed in his nose. As he fell back howling, she put one foot on the step to the throne and swung the sword, stopping just as the tip grazed Angel's throat.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't sever your head from your shoulders," she hissed.

"Master," cried the minions in unison.

"Get out, all of you," Angel ordered calmly, never letting his eyes leaved the enraged face of his beloved. "I'm fine."

"But, but..." That was Marvin, who was backing up even as he was grabbing up the scattered mail.

"Out, close the door behind you, no one comes in without my say so."

Marvin and Gary gaped at each other, then gathered the other two equally stunned vampires and herded them out the door. Werner, a minion of the former Master, could be heard whining, "But, I don't *want* to have to break in a new master," as the door shut behind them.

"Goody. Now I can just kill you and leave without anyone trying to stop me," Buffy quipped.

Angel smirked at her. "Do you really want to deal with a new master? One who might actually cause you problems? Make you work? Not make you scream in pleasure?"

"Fuck you."

Smirking wider, Angel shot one hand up and grabbed the tip of the sword, shoving it away from his throat, uncaring that the razor sharp blade cut deeply into his fingers. As Buffy glared at him and lowered the sword, he stuck his fingers in his mouth and sucked them free of blood.

Buffy made a face. "That is so disgusting."

Flicking a droplet of blood at her, Angel saw her eyes dart away from him to follow it, and in a blinding move brought up his foot and kicked her in the wrist. Buffy cried out and dropped the sword, then found herself caught and yanked onto Angel's lap before she could think to struggle.

"Now, how shall I punish you for threatening to kill me, Buff?" he asked conversationally as she beat at him with her free hand and squirmed. "Ooh, yeah lover, like that."

"Pig," she yelled, slapping him hard across the face. "Undead liar guy!"

That had him chuckling, and he fended off another slap, pinning both her hands behind her

"I will never grow bored with you, my love." Dipping his head, Angel crushed her lips beneath his.

"Hate you," Buffy gasped out before ferociously kissing him back.

Several minutes later Buffy's thin sweater was around her neck and her bra around her waist and she was straddling Angel's thighs rocking her denim covered groin against the hard bulge in his pants, while he gnawed and suckled at her aching nipples until she moaned and whined and finally cried out as she came.

*****

A dozen or so minions milled nervously around in the great entrance hall, trying not to listen to the sounds of violent pleasure coming from the throne room.

The smell was unavoidable and unmistakable, though. Slayer arousal. Slayer musk. Slayer cum.

Their master was truly a god, one of the fledglings pointed out, to control the Slayer through sex.

Several of the females turned to the one who'd said that and began beating him over the head with whatever they could find.

"It's just disgusting," a plump brunette claimed, making a face.

"She's our enemy," said another female, clearly indignant.

The male vampires all stared at the females, well, all but the one in a cowering heap on the floor.

"The Slayer's hot," claimed one male.

"I'd do her in a virgin's heartbeat," chimed in another.

The head female, a seventy year old former dance hall girl, turned to her current lover, a svelte blonde girl, and they both said in unison, "Males are idiots."

Another fight broke out.

*****

Buffy shuddered and gasped harshly as pleasure flooded her system. Lifting his head from her breasts, Angel gave her a satisfied look and that roused her. She smashed a hand in his face and shoved his head back before scrambling off his lap and yanking her clothes back into place.

"We are so not doing this again."

Angel rolled his eyes and ran one hand over his crotch, then raised it to his lips. "Wow, you creamed right through your jeans, lover."

"You are so disgusting," Buffy hissed, trying not to squirm in her wet pants.

"Whatever. I really didn't expect you back so soon, Buff. As I recall, you bit my tongue and told me to go fuck myself, before running like a scared child."

"And I recall that you let me assume that you'd turned Willow. Quite a surprise to get a phone call from her and hearing that she's alive and well and with Spike." Her lip curled into a sneer and she added snidely, "Just how did they manage to escape the big, bad master vampire, huh?"

"So, that's why you've come back. I never said I turned her."

"You let me believe you had," Buffy yelled, furious at his attitude. "You son of a bitch. You don't even care how dead it made me feel thinking that she'd become something so evil."

"So evil? Like me?" Angel's eyes narrowed and he glared at her. "Your self-righteous attitude is becoming a bore."

"FUCK YOU."

"Oh, no, lover, you do that quite well for both of us. Even thinking I'd destroyed your best friend, you still wanted me enough to ride me like the hellion you really are."

At the gibe, Buffy turned red and drew back her foot to kick him in the knee. Angel grabbed her foot before it could reach its target and sent her crashing to the floor. Stunned, she struggled to her knees, her ears ringing and her vision blurry from her head hitting stone. Gasping for breath, she forced her head up to see Angel walk down the two steps from his throne an almost gently tip her back over with the toe of his boot to her chin.

"Stay down, lover. I'm tired of this tantrum."

"You bastard," Buffy spat as she rolled over and pushed herself back to her hands and knees.

This time his foot caught her in the spine and shoved her down, making her cry out in pain.

"Stay down," Angel barked.

A frisson of fear went through her and Buffy hesitantly glanced over her shoulder to see real anger on his face.

"I am the master of Sunnydale. Do you think you can just come in here and beat me up anytime you want? Into my home, my world?"

"I'm the Slayer," she hissed, squirming beneath his foot on her back.

"Because I allow it. Do you know how easy it would be for me to call in my clan and have them subdue you? How long before I broke you, Buffy? It took what, two weeks last Spring?"

"You don't want me broken."

"No, I don't," he replied truthfully. "But, I want you to learn that you are not a god to me, Buffy Summers, that the world does not revolve around you. I am bound by choices and vows made that have nothing to do with you. Not everything I do can be colored by my feelings for you. If I allow the love I feel for you to control my every action, Sunnydale will fall to Hell. Do you really want that?"

Angel lifted his foot from her and stepped back. Warily he watched her pull herself painfully to her feet and turn to face him with tear-filled eyes.

"Don't you understand that I can't bear it if you turn Willow? I can't be with you if you destroy my best friend."

Her voice broke on the last syllable into an agonized sob, and Angel clenched his hands into fists, forcing himself not to comfort her.

"Give me a reason not to, Buffy," he found himself saying, ignoring the shock in her eyes. "Give me a reason, something that will make it acceptable to the underworld that I've allowed a human to avoid her end of a solemn vow."

They stared at each for long, silent minutes, before Buffy hesitantly asked, "You...you don't really want to turn her?"

Angel shrugged his tense shoulders. "She'll make a glorious vampire and I haven't made a childe in over a century. Do you know how expensive it is to keep a clan this size in clothes and keep them from getting bored? Those damn video games just keep getting more costly. I could really use her brilliance to manage my investments and run my businesses."

"She doesn't have to be a vampire to do that."

"She has to be a vampire because she swore she would become one, become mine."

"I don't care," Buffy yelled.

"Do you think I don't know that?" he yelled back. "Why can't you see my side in this?"

"Because your side sucks."

Angel gave her a disgusted look. "You really are a child. You lose a friend you've had for two years and I gain a vampire who most likely will manage to despise me, and I lose...Do you realize what will happen when I find them? When I turn Willow? What Spike will do?"

"Right now I'm hoping he kills you," Buffy responded rashly, her eyes glittering with furious tears.

Angel's jaw clenched, but he pushed aside the pain her words caused. "He'll try. If he succeeds, then I'm dead, Buffy. Think about that. Is that something you really want?"

"...No," she finally muttered, her traitorous heart thudding painfully in her chest.

"And if he kills me, the Clan will turn on him and destroy him, Drusilla and Willow, leaving a void to be filled by that asshole in Germany who *will* find a way to open the Hellmouth and destroy the world. And if Spike doesn't kill me, if he...fails...I have to kill him." A raw pain filled his voice and she gave him a startled look. "My favorite childe, my Will. If I don't kill him in the battle, I have to execute him. I have to take a whip and flay him to the bone. That takes hours, Buffy. And once there's not an inch of skin on him and he's just a mass of bloody sinew and veins and bones, in such agony he will have gone mad, I have to drain him, and when he's totally helpless, and the eyes that meet mine are empty of all but horror, I have to remove his fangs and his cock, to preserve as a warning to others, and then...I have to...Chop. Off. His. Head."

Just the thought made him want to scream and he turned away from Buffy, emotion choking him as he spoke the final instruction. "And rather than scattering his ashes and letting him be at peace, I have to magically bind them so that his essence will always be with our Clan, outside, alone, suffering and not allowed the comfort family can bring, always feeling the pain of the torture that led to his final death. Always seeing Willow and never being able to touch her again."

When Angel turned back to face her he saw that Buffy was silently crying, and he gathered her unresisting body in his arms, holding her close. Together they rocked for several minutes as if to a silent tune.

"Why can't you step down? Turn over the Clan to Spike?" she suddenly asked, pulling back to look up at him with hopeful eyes.

That hope was dashed by a quick shake of his head. "The promises I made and accepted pass like a legacy to my heir."

"Politics are stupid." She buried her face in his chest and tightened her hold around his back.

Unable to help himself, Angel chuckled. "I love you so much."

Slowly Buffy pulled back and stepped away from him. Her eyes were again brimming with tears when she lifted them to him. "Sometimes, love isn't enough. I understand your commitments, your vows, and that you don't want to lose control of the Hellmouth, but I can't accept what you have to do. I'll never be able to. Willow is an impasse we can't get past," she finished sadly.

"I won't allow you to leave me." In a flash, the lover was gone, replaced by the master vampire, and he grabbed her arm, shaking her painfully. "You will learn to live with my decision." The tender moment was well and truly over.

Buffy shook her head slowly and pried his hand from her. "No. I won't." She turned and walked unimpeded towards the broken door, stopping on the threshold to glance back at him. He stood like a statue in the middle of the room, staring at her. "I won't be back, Angel."

"I won't give you a choice the next time, Buffy."

"My love for you won't survive this. Can you live with that?"

She disappeared into the night and to Angel it felt like a fist was clenching around his heart.

"I'll have to," he whispered, sinking back onto his throne.

*****

Willow awakened from a doze to find herself on her stomach and Spike's tongue trailing down her spine. Tingles of pleasure went through her and she moaned softly.

"Ummm, nice way to wake up."

Spike smacked her on the rump and she screeched, her eyes flying open to find him sitting next to her fully dressed. "I've been trying to wake you for the last ten minutes, luv. I know you only got about three hours sleep, but we have to keep moving."

Willow blinked at the backlit curtains. "It's morning."

"Angelus can't mobilize his army in the day. It's safer for us to keep moving."

"Do you want me to drive?"

"You'll have to," he smiled ruefully. "Just don't wreck my baby, okay?"

Sitting up, Willow reached out and tugged him down for a kiss. "I'll have you know I got one hundreds across the board in both written and field tests in drivers' ed."

"That's my girl." Spike smiled and kissed her again.

End Chapter 11


	13. The Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow comes to a decision that sends Spike around the bend and he reacts very, very badly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on September 2, 2002. I'm hoping to return to posting updates a couple times a week--been lazy. This chapter has a rather nasty sex scene between Willow and Spike. Apparently I had the second half of this chapter written for a long time before I was able to post it (I wrote some of the story out of order).

After nearly ten hours straight of driving on back roads, Willow pulled the car into the parking lot of a motel on the edge of a dusty town in the southwestern part of Utah. While Spike dozed beneath a blanket in the back seat, she got them a room and headed to the Dairy Queen down the street for some much needed food and coffee.

On her return, slightly caffeinated and stuffed full of cheeseburger and fries, she found Spike awake and sitting up, the blanket over his head. Carefully she opened the door.

"I got us a room. It's two doors down. I'll go unlock it and then you make a dash for it, okay?"

He nodded, and a few minutes later they were both safely in the room.

"Where are we?" Spike asked, sinking onto the end of the bed, there being no chairs.

Willow shrugged and fumbled with the air-conditioning. The room was incredibly stuffy. "Somewhere in Utah." She glanced over at Spike and hesitantly asked, "Are we far enough from Sunnydale for you to hunt?"

"Don't want to risk it till we're another state away. Is this town big enough to have a butcher or a large grocery?"

"I passed a Safeway on the other side of town."

"Could you head over there and see if they have any pig's blood?"

"Won't that be a bit suspicious?"

"If they give you a look or question you, tell them you're making blood pudding."

Willow made a face. "That actually has real blood in it?"

Spike chuckled and rose to tug her into his arms for a quick kiss. "Yep. And the excuse works like a charm. I've used it myself a hundred times."

"Euuu."

Playfully he swatted her on the bottom and sent her on her way, before settling back on the lumpy bed to light his second to last cigarette. They really couldn't afford the luxury of his smoking habit, so he strived to savor the tangy, smoky taste and hit of nicotine.

He wondered if a vampire could go through withdrawal...

*****

Willow sat quietly and watched Spike drink the cold pig's blood, trying not to think about the fact that they were down to their last twenty dollars. She knew Spike had millions, but he didn't dare try to access any of his accounts. She had thought of having Giles wire them some money, but was too afraid that Angel had tapped the lines or would find out.

During the long, quiet day of driving, her mind had gone over and over the past and the future, trying to figure a way out of this mess. The initial exhilaration of escaping, the brave hope that had filled her that they would be able to stay free, had gradually faded, leaving her depressed.

And frightened.

They weren't going to make it. Angel was too smart, with too many resources.

And he was determined.

A determined Angel was terrifying.

He'd find them, and just what price would they pay for defying him?

"What's wrong, luv?"

Willow shook herself from her funk and tried to smile. "Just tired from driving. Did that help?" She gestured to the empty container.

"It'll do. Tomorrow try to find us some place with woods or even ranches. I can snag something fresh to eat."

She tried not to make a face, but he noticed.

"We can't afford to keep buying it, Willow."

"I know," she replied hollowly, trying not to think of her boyfriend eating Bambi.

Spike frowned and dumped the container in the trash can, then headed for the bathroom, feeling her sad eyes on him. He knew she was beginning to wonder if they had a future, but he was determined to keep her free and safe, no matter what he had to do.

She'd just have to learn to accept that not everything he had to do would be nice.

Turning on the tap, he rinsed his mouth with tepid water, then returned to the bedroom, shrugging out of his duster and reaching for the buttons of his shirt.

Willow watched him undress, and a shiver of desire went through her as his pale body was uncovered, his muscles tight with tension, his cock hard and straining against his stomach.

She knew what was coming next.

*****

They made love in quiet desperation, their bodies moving quickly together, as if to stave off the future. The bed in the dingy motel room creaked loudly as Spike turned Willow to her knees. Grasping the bars of the headboard, Willow watched the paint come off beneath her fingers.

Even as her body clenched in pleasure and low moans broke from her, she wondered if her life was flaking away like paint on old iron.

In the aftermath they lay separate on the bed, silent within their own thoughts. Spike sat up and reached for his cigarettes, then leaned back against the headboard and lit the last one. After a few minutes, Willow rose and wandered over to the window. Pulling back a corner of the faded curtain, she peeked out into the late afternoon, watching the sun set.

"Stop giving the perverts a free show, luv."

"...We have to go back," Willow murmured, dropping the curtain on what she knew in her heart would be her final sunset. They would be back in Sunnydale by tomorrow afternoon.

Spike sat up sharply and stared at her as she turned to face him. "Not on your life--and I mean that literally, Willow."

"I gave him my word."

"Fuck that." Stabbing out his cigarette, Spike jumped out of the bed and reached for her. Willow avoided him and crossed the room to the pile of clothes he'd efficiently stripped from her and the bag containing a few other articles of clothing, a hairbrush and some generic deodorant.

"He explained it to me, that if he lets me renege, he'll lose face. If he loses face, he might lose control of Sunnydale. I can't be the reason the world falls into hell."

"That's a mighty big leap," Spike protested.

Willow pulled on underwear and a pair of frayed jeans. "It's possible." As she reached for a shirt, she turned to look at him. There was panic on his expressive face, but he made no move to stop her. "If Angel loses control of the clan, who's next in line."

"Me."

She nodded and continued. "And they all know you have no desire to rule, and your love for me, even though we're bound, makes you undesirable and potentially unreliable as a leader in their eyes. Next is Dru, but she can't hold them. Then who?"

"...Harold, the Master's remaining childe," Spike finally answered through clenched teeth. "He rules half of Germany with an iron hand."

"He'd kill Buffy."

Spike nodded shortly.

"And open the Hellmouth," she continued, sitting down to put on her shoes. "I can't, I won't be the cause of that."

"This is all conjecture."

Willow rose and walked over to him. He flinched from her touch, but she persisted, brushing her fingertips over his pale chest. The scars were still there. You had to know where to look, but they were there, white circles on his skin. "I gave him my word, William, and he saved you."

"He should have done that anyway," Spike bit out, still bitter that his sire had been willing to let him die nine months earlier.

"Yeah, but he didn't, and I made the deal. I offered myself to him without a fight."

"You made that deal under duress."

"This isn't a court of law, my love," she replied sadly to his impassioned protest. "I have to live with my choices, and I've always kept my word."

Spike grabbed her upper arms, yelling, "You want to keep your word to die? That's insane!"

Tears filled her eyes and she tried to blink them away, but they spilled silently down her cheeks as she watched the desperation tighten his lips and cheeks and darken his eyes. Her hands rose to rest over his where they clutched her arms, bruising her tender skin through the thin shirt, and she leaned forward and brushed her lips over his still heart. "I'm sorry."

Terror nearly choked him and Spike staggered back, pulling her tightly against him as his own tears fell on the top of her bent head. "No," he moaned. "Please, no, Willow..."

"I have to," she whispered, pressing her hot, tear-streaked cheek to his chest. "I've always known I would have to. This escape, the belief that we could stay free of him...it's just been an illusion. He'll find us, and he'll...our punishment will be so much worse the longer we evade him. We have to go back."

A shudder went through him and he shoved her away from him. Willow gave him a startled look, then her eyes widened at the cold determination in his expression.

"You wouldn't be my Willow if you didn't try to follow your conscience," he murmured, "and I wouldn't be the demon I am if I let you."

She never saw the fist that knocked her to the floor and into darkness.

*****

Willow awoke in degrees. She was cold. Her jaw ached and her temples throbbed with growing pain as consciousness returned. She tried to move her hand to her head, but something tugged at her wrist, cutting into her skin. Whimpering, she forced her eyes to open and blinked into the dimly lit room.

She was no longer in the motel room.

Spike had hit her.

Shivering at the chill in the air, she struggled into a sitting position and turned her aching head towards her unmoving hand.

A handcuff was attached from her right wrist to a thick pipe embedded in a concrete wall. Experimentally she tugged at it, and quickly realized it wasn't going to move. Putting her back to the wall, she swallowed hard and peered into the darkness.

"Spike?" Her voice was a throaty whisper, her throat dry and tight with fear.

He came out of the darkness slowly, his movements precise and silent, and for the first time in nearly a year she saw in him the predator he really was.

She shivered again, and she wasn't sure if it was from cold or fear or a combination of the two.

Stopping a few feet from her, Spike dropped into a casual crouch and looked at her trembling and tugging on the handcuff. He took a final pull on the nearly empty whisky bottle in his hand, then tossed it aside where it shattered against the floor.

Willow's frightened eyes ran over his face and her heart faltered.

His eyes were dead and empty, but also slightly unfocused from the alcohol.

"Spike?" she whispered again, then shifted tacks. "Will?"

"I won't let you leave me," he muttered. "If he turns you, I lose you, and I won't let that happen. I can't let that happen. If I lose you, I lose everything." As he spoke his hands pulled off her shoes, then circled her ankles. Sliding his hands slowly up her jean clad legs, when he reached her hips, he settled on his knees over her. "I need your humanity, your soul. I won't let him take that from me."

With a tug, he pulled her down, only his fast reflexes catching her head and preventing it from cracking against the cold concrete floor. As her chained hand stretched tightly above her, she watched him turn his attention to her chest. His hand slid from beneath her head and he began to unbutton her shirt.

"No," Willow murmured. "Spike, please..."

"Mine, my heart, my soul, all mine. He's taken everything from me, my life, my blood, my body, my pride, he won't have you," he ground out, tugging the shirt away from her breasts. Gazing down at them dispassionately, he moved to her jeans and quickly pulled them and her panties off her squirming legs.

Willow flushed, flustered and confused, as he continued to mumble, so low she couldn't understand most of what he was saying. His eyes on her remained empty. Not even desire lightened them, and that bothered her. She squirmed again and he gripped her hips, stilling her. Freezing, she watched as he slid his hands down to her knees, then pulled her legs up from between his and spread them around his hips.

Her womb clenched, but it wasn't from desire. Something primal was growing in Spike's expression and causing a similar reaction in her. As his hands unfastened and tugged down his jeans, she felt herself grow damp with sudden need.

Wrapping his hand around the base of his erect cock, Spike blanketed her body with his and thrust strongly into her. Her welcoming heat drove all thought from his mind and he growled, flattening both hands on the floor on either side of her head. He could feel her moving beneath him, arching to him and he closed his eyes, thrusting mindlessly, pounding her into the hard floor.

Willow winced at the pain as her back and hips hit the concrete with each drive of his cock into her, but her knees pressed to his sides and she moved with him, her hunger in control. Her eyes remained open and on him, watching his face for any sign of emotion.

There was nothing. His eyes remained closed against her and only the slight flaring of his nostrils and the hard cock inside her conveyed that he felt anything.

As her body grew hotter and wetter, Willow gasped softly for breath and raised her free hand to his face.

Spike flinched from her fingertips and his eyes flew open. "Don't," he growled, lifting himself farther away from her. "Don't. Touch. Me." Reaching his knees, he slid his hands beneath her hips and continued to pump into her as tears filled her eyes.

Willow's hand fell across her heaving breasts and she whimpered at the hardness of her nipples.

She was aroused by his coldness as much by her love for him.

As she felt her clitoris swell and harden against the persistent brushing of his cock, she whimpered and arched to him, her inner muscles beginning to squeeze around him. Spike clenched his teeth and hissed, his fingers digging into her soft bottom. His orgasm approaching on a rush of heat, he came back to himself just a bit, and looked down into Willow's watery eyes.

A flutter of compassion and love pushed against the desperate need driving him, but he was past the point of stopping. Despair filled him and he flung his head back and howled, then buried his face against her breast bone as his release pumped from him in angry bursts.

Shuddering, he collapsed against her and began to sob.

Willow lay still beneath him, her body trembling with need and her chest aching with her own buried cries. Her hand gently stroked his head, her fingers twining in his hair, as his cold tears melted into her heated skin.

"I'm sorry," he pled over and over, hitching sobs of pain and loss and fear reverberating through them both.

"It's okay, Will," she murmured, continuing to stroke him in comfort, her own tears burning her tightly closed eyes.

Finally, Spike rose from her, turning his back to fasten his jeans. Hunched over, he stumbled into the darkness and found a corner to retch in. Alcohol and blood vomited from him as self- loathing filled him. As the heaves slowed, he curled into a ball, shuddering in reaction and trying desperately not to listen to the sounds of Willow weeping.

End of Chapter 12


	14. The Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy runs into Angel in the cemetery and they do a lot of yelling and fighting and then he turns her over his knee. Plus, Willow wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on September 12, 2002. This chapter has angst, spanking, oral sex between Buffy and Angel.
> 
> Original notes: Hadn't really planned on the B/A scene, and I'm not really sure it fits, but I was in a bad mood due to having a cold and ff.net going all censory on us.
> 
> The latter refers to them cracking down on NC17 fics which led to me to stop posting there for a long time. Thankfully we now have AO3 with no censorship issues.
> 
> Also, first reference to Nick, an OMC who will come to play a huge role in the future. I love it when I just create a little throw-away thing and it morphs.

Angel hung up the phone and stared at the receiver in disbelief.

"Was it naughty, daddy?"

He swung around to find Drusilla and Amelia watching him dressed in matching black capri pants and corsets, their arms around each other's waist, their heads together.

"Why did you come here, Amelia?"

"My psychic friend told me to."

"To come here specifically, Sunnydale."

She nodded. "The Hellmouth. It's a time of prophecy."

"...Hell."

She nodded again, sagely. "Yes."

"What's wrong, Angel?" Drusilla asked, giving him a puzzled look.

"That was Nick on the phone, Spike's grandchilde through Bettina. He woke up last night with the sudden urge to come visit his grandsire. And I got a letter from Penn out of the blue, haven't heard from him in a hundred years, and he said he feels drawn here and wants to be part of my court."

Drusilla smiled. "One big happy family, and soon we'll have a new princess, my beautiful willowy Willow."

Scowling, Angel stalked towards the front door. "I'm going hunting. I need a vile kill." The door slammed behind him.

"Why is grandpapa so angry?"

"He's in love with the Slayer," Drusilla replied offhandedly, as she stroked her childe's bottom. "It's certain to make anyone cranky."

Amelia gaped at her sire.

*****

Buffy patrolled half-heartedly, trailed by Cordelia and Xander, who weren't talking to each other. Giles was still trying to decipher the inscription on the amulet. All he could say was that it could go either way, be either bad or good.

Great. Vagueness.

And why did Angel want it?

If he wanted to maintain order on the Hellmouth, why would Angel have sent his minions after the amulet? And they had to be his minions because he controlled the vamps in Sunnydale.

Something new to confront him with.

"This is boring," Cordelia complained.

"Boring is good," Xander sniped back. "Boring means no evil bad things wanting to eat us."

"It could also mean that there all up to something," Buffy muttered, scowling as the wind brought her the scent of nothing dead.

"Like how to capture and turn our best friend and *still* not get staked?"

Buffy shot Xander a nasty look.

"You're being such an asshole, Xander," Cordelia retorted.

"Look, I can't kill Angel, and not because I love the son of a bitch. I have to think of the bigger picture, of keeping the whole fucking world in one piece. Angel explained it all to me..."

"And when was this?" Xander asked, his voice full of bitterness. "When you were playing hide the sausage with him?"

Buffy stopped walking and spun to face him, an angry and humiliated look on her face. "My sex life is none of your business, Xander. Angel knows I'll never forgive him if he turns Willow, but he won't concede. We just have to hope that Spike and Willow keep running."

"You'd choose him over her."

"I just said I'll never forgive him," she yelled in frustration. "I can't kill him. Oaths sworn to him pass to his heir. Spike would never turn Willow and neither would Dru, so they'd both end up ousted and probably dead. I don't know who that leaves in charge, but I really doubt it's someone who has no interest in opening the Hellmouth. We're better off with Angel in control."

Xander shot her a look of pure disgust. "You've bought his line completely."

"You don't think I brought all this up to Giles? He confirmed it all."

"Well, lookie here, squabbling Scoobies." Angel slithered from behind a large crypt and smirked at the group.

"I'm out of here." Xander stormed off in the opposite direction and Cordelia gave Buffy a helpless look before running after him.

"Aw, did I make them go away?"

Buffy scowled at her lover as he strolled towards her.

"I was out looking for something nasty to kill. I'd be glad to take Xander off your hands," Angel joked.

"That's not funny," Buffy snapped. "What do you want with an emerald amulet?"

That stopped him in his tracks and he stared at her, baffled. "Huh?"

"The other night, the night you kidnaped Willow, you sent some minions to the Van something or other crypt to fetch an amulet to quote bring on the end of the world unquote."

"...Shit. They actually found something?"

Now it was Buffy's turn to look baffled.

"I sent them there to keep you distracted," Angel explained. "I didn't expect them to find anything. Are you sure it's not just a necklace from a corpse?"

"No, Giles is pretty sure it's something big."

"Fuck," Angel muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I've got childer coming out of the woodwork and visions of prophecies. I don't need this shit right now."

"Tough. What do you mean prophecies?"

"...End of the world type crap," he finally answered.

"So, you didn't want to end the world, but your idiot minions may have found something that does just that. Brilliant."

Angel glared at her. "I don't need your sarcasm either."

"No sign of Willow or Spike?" Buffy asked, her voice dripping with mockery.

"Bitch."

"Ooh, snappy comeback."

Angel's hand shot out and caught her around the nape of the neck, yanking her hard against his body. Buffy glared up at him, but felt a moment of trepidation at the pure anger in his dark eyes.

"Do *not* push me tonight, Buffy."

"Let me go," she hissed, shoving at his chest. His fingers pressed into her throat and she choked at the sudden lack of air. Struggling wildly, she kneed him hard in the groin. Gasping, Angel released her and she fell backwards, rubbing her throat and sucking in oxygen.

Groaning in pain, Angel leaned heavily against a tombstone and carefully massaged his throbbing genitals. "You bitch!"

"You were choking me," she cried, scrambling farther away from him and finally shoving herself to her feet.

"You're going to pay for that, and I never did punish you for breaking my door and attacking me last night." Pushing himself away from the tombstone, he stalked towards her. Buffy stood her ground and glared at him, hands fisted at her sides.

Angel reached for her and she punched him in the face. He retaliated with a backhand that sent her spinning, then caught her around the waist and brought his free hand down hard on her thinly covered bottom.

Buffy's eyes went wide and she shrieked in shock. Before she knew it, Angel was seated on a sarcophagus, and she was over his knee, her feet off the ground, her arms flailing for purchase, as he rained blows down on her.

"Stop it! How dare you," she yelled, beating at any part of his body she could reach and kicking her legs.

"Little brat," Angel muttered, holding her squirming body down with one hand as he concentrated the other on her upper thighs. The thin cotton pants she wore provided little protection from the sharp slaps delivered with vampiric strength.

"Ow! You're hurting me!"

"Good! Someone should have done this a long time ago." Although he'd beaten her before, he'd never given her a spanking, and Buffy found it much more humiliating than a slap to the face or a strap to her back.

And it hurt!

As Buffy bucked on his lap, trying to free herself, Angel grabbed the electric waistband of her pants, yanking them down to mid- thigh. The skimpy thong she wore framed her pink globes to perfection. Angel grinned nastily at the thought of how red they'd soon be, as he spanked her hard, alternating from one cheek to the other.

Buffy howled and dug her fingernails into his calf. He ignored the stinging pain and kept hitting her until her bottom grew hot and her flesh turned red and purple with bruises. Exhausted from fighting him and from the growing pain, Buffy finally lay limp, hiccuping sobs issuing from her lips, and tears streaming down her face.

Sensing her resistance was over, Angel let his anger drain away and raised his hand from her raw backside. He sighed softly and lifted her off his lap. Buffy stumbled and nearly fell as her legs trembled from tension and pain. Avoiding looking at him, she reached for the pants around her knees, but Angel's hand caught her wrist.

"No," he said softly, turning her around. As he hopped off the sarcophagus, he bent her over it.

"Please, no more," she begged weakly.

Pinning her hand behind her back as she struggled to rise, Angel sank to his knees and pressed a feather soft kiss to the reddest spot on her bottom.

Buffy gasped loudly as a bolt of pleasure went through her, momentarily driving away the pain.

"So beautiful," he whispered, before kissing her again and again until she squirmed for another reason entirely. Pulling down her thong and parting her thighs, he rolled his tongue along her swollen cleft, drinking in her arousal, before lapping hard at her clit.

"Come for me, baby."

"...Angel!" Buffy wailed as her orgasm swept over her, making her tremble and thrust against his talented mouth.

"That's it," he murmured between licks, gently bringing her down. As she whimpered in pleasure, he slid his tongue up to her tight rosette, then back and forth across her bruised bottom, until every bruise glistened with saliva.

Angel rose to his feet and Buffy slipped limply to her knees, panting hard. Fumbling with her clothes, her fingers like lead, she finally managed to cover herself, then hesitantly looked up.

Angel leaned against a tree, smoking and brooding and not looking at her.

Wincing at the pain, Buffy limped over to him and pressed herself against him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I hate you," she sniffled.

Staring down in surprise at the head burrowing into his chest, Angel patted her carefully. "Okay."

"You're a pig and a bastard and stupid and stubborn," With each word, she tightened her hold on him. "And I'm the idiot who loves you."

Flicking away his cigarette, Angel cradled her close, rocking her gently as she softly wept. "I love you, too."

In silent agreement, they put aside the future and dwelt in the moment.

*****

Willow came awake with a start, and the aches in her body immediately made themselves known. Moaning softly, she shivered and curled her legs up to her chest. She was still naked except for the open shirt, and chained to the wall. Her back and hips were sore and cold, and she felt totally miserable.

She'd cried herself to sleep at some point, but her body didn't feel at all rested, so she wasn't sure she'd gotten much time had passed.

It was colder, though.

Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she blinked into the darkness, trying to find Spike. The only sound she could hear was the beating of her own heart, and the only light came from a few unboarded windows high up on the wall. It wasn't enough to pierce the darkness more than a few feet in front of her.

There had been a light earlier, a candle or a lantern, but it was out now.

The darkness sent a different kind of shiver through her.

Fear.

Willow was really sick of being afraid.

"Spike?" Her voice was strong and firm as she found her spine. This was ridiculous. She clanged the handcuff against the pipe. "Spike, unchain me. We need to talk."

After a long pause she heard a distant noise, leather scraping across concrete. A lighter flared and the candle was relit. It sat precariously a top a wooden crate, the only object in the large room other than dust and litter.

And Spike, who came shuffling forward, head down, shoulders drooping. As he neared her, Willow could smell the stale alcohol and blood on him, and wrinkled her nose. He dropped into a crouch, still not looking at her, and made no move to free her.

"I'm cold and my butt hurts and my shoulder's going numb. Unchain me, Spike."

He didn't answer her, just stared at the floor between his knees, silent and trembling.

"I have to pee," she added bluntly, trying not to let the hurt and fear she was feeling color her voice.

Willow watched stunned as a fat tear slid from Spike's chin to splash on the floor.

"Oh, love," she said softly, hesitantly reaching out with her free hand to brush her fingers across his face.

Sobbing, Spike collapsed against her, holding her tightly. "I'm so sorry, so sorry, please forgive me," he begged between gulps, clutching at her, his face buried between her breasts.

"It's okay."

"I hit you. Oh, god, I hit you." His fingers bit into her shoulders. "I swore I'd never hit you again. And I...I raped you. I'm a monster, an evil, soulless beast, I..."

"William," Willow said sharply, her fingers wrapping in his hair to pull his head up. "Don't do this to yourself."

His face streaked with tears, his eyes red and shadowed, he'd never looked more human to her.

"I forgive you," she whispered. "I love you." Lowering her head, she pressed a soft kiss to his tightly drawn lips.

Spike cried harder, sinking down so that his head was pillowed on her lap, his arms wrapped around her waist. Gently Willow stroked his hair and let her own silent tears fall.

End Chapter 13


	15. The Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Willow and Spike head home to face the consequences and have what may be one last intimate moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on September 18, 2002 and it's NC17 for Willow/Spike sex.
> 
> Original notes: I hope this chapter works. I kinda decided to go a certain direction and I'm not sure I've prepared you all for it, but I'm having problems making sense of why Willow wants to go back...

Willow took a sip of her pop then put the plastic bottle back in the makeshift cup holder duct taped to the dashboard. Her fingers tapped randomly on the wheel as she listened to the pop music coming from the radio, trying to let the mindless sap distract her from thinking too much.

It was a telling sign as to how deep in denial and despair Spike was that he hadn't once complained about her choice of music.

As she passed the first sign with mileage to Sunnydale--one hundred--she sighed sadly and brushed a lone tear from the corner of one eye.

She'd made the right decision, she knew that, but...it was so hard.

~~~~~

Willow returned from the bathroom slightly fresher and dressed once more. It looked like they were in some abandoned warehouse, and a peek through the slats of a boarded up window had revealed that it was late at night, the street deserted and the sky midnight blue and glittering with stars. Placing the candle back on a stack of crates, she slid to a seated position next to where Spike huddled in a ball on the floor wrapped in his duster.

Hesitantly she touched his shoulder and when he didn't bolt, she began to stroke him.

Mewling softly, Spike scooted towards her and buried his face in her lap again, letting her caress his shaking shoulders. They sat like that for a long time, until Willow's leg started to cramp and she pulled it out from underneath her, dislodging Spike.

He looked up at her, and her heart broke at his ravaged, tear- streaked countenance.

"Don't do this."

Ever so gently she brushed away a fresh tear from his cheek with her thumb. "I have to."

"That's so stupid, so wrong and insane." Yanking away from her, Spike rose to his knees as frustration pushed away the pain. "Don't you understand that I don't care if you're breaking your word?"

"I know, but it doesn't matter, Spike. Everything's been..." Willow struggled to put her muddled thoughts into words. ...leading to this, ever since you were shot. My promise to Angelus, his love for Buffy. I don't know how to explain this, but I just have this feeling that there's something bigger going on."

"Now you're getting visions?" he snapped snidely.

"Not visions, but I do have dreams. Dreams of being a vampire. Dreams of not. All tied in with you and Dru and Angelus and Buffy. I've been having them since the bond."

He stared at her. "Why have you never mentioned this?"

She shrugged. "I guess I figured they were just fear-induced, but now..." Willow shook her head haplessly. "Something inside me insists that I return to Sunnydale and give myself over to Angel. Maybe it's just my conscience, I don't know."

"I'll lose you," Spike's replied in a strangled voice.

"Maybe.

At the hint of hope in her voice, Spike cocked his head to the side and regarded her thoughtfully, the anger temporarily under control. "You think you can hold onto your love for me?"

"I'm not sure he'll turn me."

Spike's eyes widened and he rose gracefully to his feet, shaking his head. "You're wrong."

"He had all night. He had his fangs at my throat, William, and he didn't bite. I finally fell asleep and I was sure that when I awoke I'd be a vampire, but he didn't do it. I don't think he really wants to."

Snorting, Spike began to pace. "Oh, he wants to. You're wrong, Willow. He was probably just trying to drive you nuts or something by delaying."

Willow, too, rose to her feet. "Do you believe that he really loves Buffy?"

That stopped the pacing as Spike swung on her. "Beyond a shadow of a doubt, though I'm still amazed at it."

"Buffy will never forgive him if he turns me. I think that may have finally sunk in with him, and that's why he hesitated."

"You're grasping at straws, luv."

"They're all I have to grasp at," she replied softly. "I'm sorry, William, but I have to go back. You...you don't have to come with me," she stammered.

"There's no way in hell or on earth that I'll let you face that bastard alone," he swore, then continued silently, 'and when he turns you, I pray he kills me before you rise...'

~~~~~

Spike had given up on trying to stop her, and they'd left for California just before dawn. He'd wrapped himself in his duster and burrowed into the backseat. For awhile Willow had tried to talk to him, but he'd retreated again into frustration, anger, and fear.

She understood that, she felt the same things, but she also believed that all this was necessary. She couldn't say when she'd started feeling that way or just why returning to face Angel was so important, but all she knew was that she had to do it. The belief had truly manifested itself while she had held Spike as he cried.

But, she couldn't say why.

Buffy and Drusilla were the ones whose dreams meant things, who got the weird feelings, not her, and she didn't know how to process them.

She really, really wished that her conscience had kept quiet and allowed them to keep running. The brave, determined face she'd put on for Spike covered a mass of fear and anger and downright horror.

Although she felt a glimmer of hope, Spike was probably right. Buffy's love wasn't going to be enough to stop him.

She was grasping at straws, and Angel was going to turn her into a monster.

Seeing the sign for a rest stop, Willow pulled off the highway and into the parking lot. She stopped the car and got out, closing her eyes as the warm winter sun hit her face. Trying not to cry, she wandered over to a picnic table and stretched out on the top, basking in the last solar rays that would feel good and not deadly on her skin.

*****

A couple of hours later, she sat on the table watching the sun set behind a row of trees. Melancholia filled her and she hugged her knees to her chest, her eyes moving slowly back and forth over the red and pink and purple sky.

Behind her she heard the sound of a car door open and close, but didn't turn. Their's was the only car in the lot.

"Can you feel the sun setting?" she asked curiously, not looking at him.

"Yeah, something stirs deep inside," he replied slowly. "Something primal." There was a long silence, then he added, his voice empty, "You'll feel it when you awaken for the first time."

Willow turned on the table and saw that Spike was staring past her at the dying sun, his face a desolate mask.

"We should go," she whispered.

Spike turned on his heel. "I'll drive."

"You don't have to," she protested as she slipped from the table and hurried after him.

"I'll drive," he said more forcefully, pulling open the driver's side door.

Willow nibbled at her lower lip in worry, than hurried around the car, barely getting in before he peeled out of the parking lot.

They drove in silence for an hour. Spike had turned off the radio and drove with one hand on the wheel, the other one clenched around his knee. Willow curled against the door and watched him as evening dark filled the car. She was startled when he pulled the car off the highway, and glanced out the window to see the road to Sunnydale.

Three miles.

Fear nearly choked her, but she kept it inside, not wanting to give him a reason to turn the car around.

They couldn't do that.

Just on the outskirts of town, Spike pulled the car into the parking lot of a deserted youth baseball field and turned off the engine.

"Spike," Willow began, her protest dying as he turned need-filled eyes on her.

"One last time," he whispered hoarsely, "to wipe out what I did to you last night, to feel your heart pounding against my chest and the heat of your body surrounding mine...one last time..."

Desire flared in the pit of her stomach and she nodded wordlessly before crawling over to him and pressing herself against him, her arms going around his neck as he turned on the seat and clutched her close. They kissed, at first lightly, almost reverently, but their mutual need quickly found them mewling and groaning as they devoured each others mouths.

Spike feverishly yanked the buttons of her shirt open, baring her breasts for his eager hands. Willow tugged his duster down his arms, then broke the kiss only long enough to pull his t-shirt over his head. At the first touch of her pebbled nipples to his smooth, cool chest, they both groaned and resumed the hungry kiss.

Trying to pull her onto his lap, Spike growled at the steering wheel, then fumbled for the seat release and shoved the bench back as far as it would go. Willow scrambled across him and kicked off her shoes, her hands and lips all over his chest as he peeled her jeans and panties down her legs.

Naked, she straddled his lap and undulated against the hard bulge in his jeans. Spike bucked helplessly and her back hit the horn in the middle of the steering wheel. At the loud noise, they both started, then stared at each other, before laughing helplessly.

"Oh god, I love you," he swore before fastening his eager mouth to one of her nipples.

Careful not to set off the horn again, Willow arched into his touch and whimpered as his tongue lapped at her hot flesh. Her hands found his belt and she fumbled with it, finally freeing it and the fly of his jeans. His cock sprang into her hands and she caressed him until he roared with lust.

"Inside...now..." he demanded, lifting her hips. Mindless with need, Willow guided his cock inside her wet, swollen channel and sank down. Her mouth found his in a deep kiss and her breasts pressed against his chest as she began to move. His hands remained on her bottom, kneading her soft flesh, guiding her as his own hips pumped upwards.

"Love...you..." she mumbled against his mouth, her fingers sliding into his hair and massaging his scalp as they moved together at a quick, hard pace. Willow began to pant shallowly and she rocked her hips forward, rubbing her hard little clit against his pubic bone with each thrust. Spike broke their kiss and buried his mouth in her neck, sucking hungrily on her sweaty flesh as he pounded his cock up into her.

Keening loudly, Willow felt her orgasm approach on a hot, wet rush, and she clenched her inner muscles around his cock, locking him inside her.

"Willow," Spike howled, flinging his head back as his balls churned with need. Her hands slipped down to his shoulders and her short fingernails bit into his skin as she squeezed and squeezed and finally gave a short scream as release flooded her.

As her muscles relaxed then fluttered wildly around his cock, Spike braced his feet and lifted his hips off the seat, stabbing deeply into her as his climax poured from him. Willow gasped and sobbed and squirmed on his lap, finally collapsing back and setting off the horn again.

Laughing with tears streaming down her cheeks, she flung herself forward and held him tightly as he lazily pumped into her, sending quivers of delight through her.

"Love you, too," Spike murmured, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head as she buried her face in his shoulder.

*****

Hand in hand they walked up the path to the massive front door of the mansion, both somber and silent, yet having reached some kind of peace. As they stepped up to the door, Spike looked down at Willow and she squeezed his hand.

He turned the knob and pushed open the heavy wooden panel.

"Well, well," a deep and nasty voice drawled from a few feet inside, "Look who's come home."

"The prince and the princess have come to the castle to pay homage to the king," Drusilla murmured sadly. "Naughty, naughty, they shall have no tea. Pain will be their only sustenance." Sobbing, she collapsed in a heap of blue velvet.

And Angel stepped over her and slammed his fist into Spike's mouth. The younger vampire reeled back, his hand pulling away from Willow's. Angel grabbed her, yanking her squirming body over his shoulder, before turning his back on his favorite childe and striding down the hallway.

"She came back willingly, sire," Spike cried, his voice thick and garbled as blood filled his mouth.

"Please..." he begged as a group of minions came out of the shadows and a baseball bat sent him unconscious.

The last thing he heard was Willow screaming his name.

End Chapter 14


	16. The Point Of No Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angel teases, taunts and punishes the runaways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on September 22, 2002 and contains bondage, violence, Angel being evil. Rated R for all of that. There are hints of Willow/Angel and Drusilla/Angel and Drusilla/Willow.

Unceremoniously dumped in the middle of Angel's bed, Willow tried to roll off the far side, but he pinned her down, leering at her as his hard body pressed hers into the mattress.

"Please," she begged, finally finding her voice. "You don't want to do this."

Angel snorted and nuzzled his nose into the base of her throat. "You smell good. Sex and cum and hot blood."

Willow wriggled, then groaned as she felt his erection poke her in the thigh.

"Willow!" Drusilla skipped into the room and flopped down on the bed next to the struggling pair. "I knew you'd come home and now we can be a happy family, and you must meet my childe." Grabbing Willow's hand, she tried to tug her out from beneath Angel.

"Dru," Angel growled a warning. "Leave."

"She doesn't want you, daddy," Drusilla replied seriously, tugging harder, her whole attitude changing. "She doesn't want this. Don't do this, Angel. Everything will go bad if you do this." Her eyes drifted towards the ceiling and she rolled onto her back. "Here...the five...the star...darkness and dead hearts and suffering, endless suffering."

She started to weep.

"Drusilla, I don't have time for you visions," Angel snapped impatiently as he moved off Willow and pulled his limp childe to her feet. She swayed drunkenly, keening softly and wordlessly.

Willow took advantage of her momentary freedom to roll off the bed and run out of the bedroom and through the sitting room. Throwing open the door, she nearly bounced off a pretty blonde female vampire who gave her a vapid smile.

"And who are you, pretty child?"

Stammering out her name, Willow backed away from the vampiress.

"The little runaway. My sire's bondmate."

"Spike?" Willow frowned.

The female laughed, her voice a trill of delight. "No, silly, Drusilla." Suddenly she stiffened, and at the same time, Drusilla ran weeping from the bedroom.

"The stars are blanking out, one by one. Amelia, can you see them?" Frantic, she grabbed her childe's shoulders, clawing at her through the thin material of the dress she wore.

Amelia's eyes went blank, then widened in horror. "Soon only one left, one big one...five points...five..."

"Will you two get the fuck out of here? I don't give a shit right now. Maybe tomorrow I will," Angel growled furiously as he stalked over to Willow and snagged her wrist in a painful grip.

"Noooo," Willow cried, struggling as he pulled her back into the bedroom and slammed and locked the door behind them.

"Now do you see why I want a sane childe?" Angel gave her an exasperated look.

"You're the one who made Dru insane."

"Probably not a good idea to remind me of my mistakes right now," he hissed softly, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. "It was a mistake to let you see Spike the other night. It inspired him to break free and take you and run. So, which one of you had the brains to come home?"

"Spike was only trying to keep me alive."

Angel nodded. "I figured it was you. Spike knows all to well the punishment you would face."

"Don't hurt him, please."

Her pleading almost made him smile, and his grip gentled to a slow caress of her shoulders and arms. "It's rather nauseating how you both stand up for the other."

"You'd do the same for Buffy," Willow whispered.

His face went cold and hard. "Leave her out of this."

"If you turn me, she'll never be yours again, Angel. It's the point of no return," Willow persisted.

"Shut up."

"She'll love you until the end of time, but she can't be with you if you destroy me. It'll be too much."

"Willow, don't push me."

The deadliness in Angel's voice sent a fresh chill through her and she swallowed hard as she stared up into his cold eyes. "But...you know all that, don't you?" she whispered dully, as the dim hope that she'd survive began to fade. Tears filled her eyes.

"Give up, Willow," he urged softly.

"I don't want to die," she sobbed, crumpling against him.

As Angel's hands released their tight grip to lift her up, Willow lashed out at him, slamming her fist into his stomach and shoving him away. Turning, she flipped the lock on the door and ran out of the room, past Amelia and Drusilla who were locked in an embrace, swaying and whimpering in delirium. Angel howled in fury behind her, but she kept running, down the hall, then the stairs.

Coming back had seemed the right thing to do--and the little bit of her still able to be rational still believed that--but her fear was back in control, and her fear wanted her out of there.

As she ran into the main room, she skidded to a halt and gasped loudly.

Spike hung from the center of the room in chains, his toes barely touching the floor, his face a mask of grief. When he saw her, his tear-swollen eyes widened.

"Get out, Willow. Run!"

"I can't leave you." Glancing around, she saw several minions coming out of the woodwork and advancing on her. "No..."

"Run!"

And suddenly Angel was there, fury in his eyes. Grabbing her, he dragged her to a second set of manacles and within thirty seconds she was hung facing Spike.

"Don't go anywhere," he snarled before spinning on his heel and ordering everyone out.

When the room emptied and Angel could be heard stomping and swearing up the stairs, Willow moaned softly in dismay and felt fresh tears burn her eyes. "You were right," she sobbed.

"So were you," Spike replied, heartbroken. "You had to be true to yourself."

"He's going to kill me."

"I'll love you until the end of time, Willow," her lover replied solemnly as she cried quietly until her face was blotchy and her eyes red. "No matter what."

Willow couldn't give him the same assurance.

*****

Buffy sat at the table in the Library, running the amulet through her fingers like a shuriken.

"Can I have some of those cool throwing stars?"

"...What?" Giles gave her a distracted look and flipped open another book.

Sighing, Buffy let the chain slide between her thumb and index finger until the amulet settled on the table. "Any progress?"

"No." Giles cursed under his breath and took off his glasses to rub his sore eyes. "If only Willow had managed to crack the Council's database before..."

"And we can't exactly use Angel's archive like he promised," Cordelia added from the other end of the table and ignored Xander's glare at the mention of the hated one.

Buffy started and sat up straight. "Sure we can. He said he sent his minions on a wild goose chase to keep me busy. He didn't expect them to find anything." She picked up the amulet again. "But, he might know what this is."

"You can't seriously be thinking of taking that to him," Giles interjected.

"Like he can get it away from me. And, anyway, he doesn't have any interest in it, and if it is bringing about the end of the world, well, he doesn't want that either. As long as Spike and Willow are on the run, we might as well learn to co-exist again."

Xander's angry slamming of his book and storming out of the Library announced his opinion of that idea. Cordelia threw them an apologetic shrug and followed her boyfriend.

"For once I agree with Xander."

Buffy shot her Watcher a look. "I won't let Angel have it, I swear, but if he can recognize the language at least..."

Sighing heavily, Giles rubbed his temples and nodded. "Yes, fine. You're right. We've run into too many brick walls. Perhaps he does have some information on the thing." Putting back on his glasses he continued seriously, "But, take care, Buffy. He can't be trusted."

Buffy gave him a sad look, then nodded as she pocketed the amulet and grabbed her crossbow and spare stake.

*****

Angel stomped into his room and found Drusilla alone, curled on the couch, weeping. Rolling his eyes in disgust, he yanked her to her feet and shook her. "What is your problem, Drusilla? One minute you want a new sister and the next you're mewling about how it's wrong. As if you have any say in the matter."

Drusilla clutched his biceps and gave him a wild look. "The darkness threatens. It wants to eat me," she whimpered.

"Dru."

"She's the key, the center, the point of no return. You mustn't take her, Angel."

"I have no choice," he barked angrily, shaking her hard.

Drusilla began to laugh softly, and the sound sent a chill through Angel. "We never had a choice. You didn't give me one when you murdered the sisters and raped me on the altar until I could no longer even beg for mercy. I gave none to Amelia when I killed her babies one by one and gave them back to her in pieces until she lost her mind and begged for me to end her suffering. We perpetuate our own fate."

Releasing her, Angel shook his head at her insane rambling, and headed for his room to find a certain box. The next thing he knew he was on the floor and pain was exploding in his head. Gasping, he looked up and saw a blurry vision of Drusilla holding a brass lamp.

Infuriated at the boldness from his usually meek daughter, Angel morphed and attacked her, smashing the lamp from her hands, and cracking his fist across her cheek so hard it immediately bruised.

Crying out, Drusilla collapsed in a ball on the floor.

"Get up," he hissed.

"...Please..."

He kicked her in the hip and she shrieked and rolled out of his way.

"Get up, get dressed in something somber enough to witness a punishment, and call the minions to the great room." Angel stared down at her shaking form for a long moment, then asked, his voice deadly, "Did you hear me, Drusilla?"

"Yes sire," she whispered, once again meek and beaten. Trembling from head to foot, Drusilla dragged herself to her feet and fled to her own room.

"What the fuck is going on around here?" Angel muttered to himself.

*****

Only two feet separated them as they hung in their chains. Gazing deeply into Willow's eyes, Spike tried to impart all his strength to her, but her fear was leaking into both of them. She had stopped crying and didn't even bother trying to struggle, but she couldn't helping wondering what would happen now...and how much pain they would have to endure before Angel finally turned her.

They had only been chained for ten minutes, but Willow's arms were already beginning to hurt, and standing on her toes did nothing to alleviate the pain. She hadn't expected this.

Maybe she shouldn't have punched him...

A noise came from behind her and she twisted her head to see several minions filing in, eager looks on their faces. Turning back to Spike she saw that other minions were coming in from the hallway.

Spike's eyes narrowed and his lips tightened. So, it was to be a public punishment.

He wondered if it was to be a public execution as well.

Angel returned with Drusilla on his arm. She was subdued, a bruise turning livid shades of red on one cheek. Dressed all in black, with a lace veil covering her hair, she kept her eyes downcast in submission. Spike's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the familiar blonde walking behind the couple, her eyes also downcast.

Seating Drusilla on the lower of the throne chairs with Amelia taking a spot at her side, Angel strolled towards the chained couple, both light and anger gleaming in his eyes, but the intense fury seemed to be gone for the moment. As soon as he glanced in Spike's direction, the younger male started to speak rapidly.

"It was my idea to leave. I forced her to go. She came back willingly. There's no need to punish her. Punish me."

Angel cocked one eyebrow and replied silkily, "I *am* punishing you, Spike." He made a tsking noise and slid between the chained couple. "Two hundred years old and you are still the most willful creature I've ever met."

"I'm sorry I hit you, sire. I was desperate," Spike pled earnestly.

"Oh, I'm sure you are sorry, but you will still be punished for that. Childer don't turn on their sires, remember?" Angel held out his hand and a minion reverently approached with a long wooden case carved with intricate and obscure symbols.

Spike nearly choked as he recalled its contents.

Opening the box, Angel carefully removed an ancient yet pristine whip. Its lash was slender, yet razor sharp, and its hasp was carved from ivory into the shape of entwined demons. Braided into the tip was a small, sharp diamond, that Spike knew from personal experience would dig deeply into flesh.

As Angel held up the whip, gasps of awe rang out from the crowd. This was the Whip of Aurelius, one of the clan's most sacred objects, and used only to punish childer.

And sometimes, though rarely, to kill them.

A hard and sharp enough blow could decapitate a vampire.

Willow's eyes widened at the sight of the whip, but she didn't realize the significance. As soon as she had seen Spike chained she'd realized that a whipping was probably in store for him, and maybe for herself, though she doubted it.

Angel had other ways to punish her.

Stiffening his spine and tightening his jaw, Spike glared at his sire until Angel smiled.

The smile sent chills through his childe.

"I used this on you once, do you remember?"

"Yes," Spike replied tightly.

"You had run away then, too. It was three months into your training and you didn't appreciate my heavy hand. As I recall, you didn't appreciate this whip cutting your back to shreds either. After only a half dozen blows you screamed and pleaded with me to stop, do you remember, Will?"

"I'm not a fledgling anymore."

Angel nodded thoughtfully and ran the whip through his fingers before doubling it and tapping Spike's chin with it. "I know, and whippings no longer seem to work with you." Suddenly, Angel turned and stared down into Willow's glistening eyes. "That's why I'm not whipping you, William. I'm whipping her."

Spike started in horror and furiously began to yank on the chains. "NO!"

Going white with sudden terror, Willow fixed her eyes on the deadly looking whip in Angel's hands, and knew he would kill her with it. "No," she whispered in shock.

"Sire, no, please, no. It'll kill her," Spike yelled, trying to get Angel's attention. "Kill me, do whatever you want to me, just don't hurt her."

Slowly Angel turned back to Spike and shook his head. "I don't want to hurt her, but it's a lesson you should have learned two centuries ago."

When he realized that nothing he said would deter his sire, Spike's terror turned to anger and he spat out, "What lesson? That you're a prick?"

Angel chuckled, "So predictable," and strolled behind Willow.

"Spike?" Willow begged, terror choking her.

Tears streamed freely down Spike's cheeks. "Be strong, baby," he murmured, his voice full of love, then he swung his attention back to Angel and furiously snapped, "How many?"

"One for each night you were gone, and two for the blow to my head and the gall to run away. Five in all. You know I'm an expert with this whip, Spike. I won't kill her, but she will bear the scars for all eternity."

A shudder went through Willow and her stomach churned. Only her strong will kept her from vomiting her dinner. Angel's hand found the collar of her shirt and she jerked forward, trying to pull away from him. The flimsy shirt ripped down the back and he tugged the remnants from her, baring her from the waist up.

Lifting the end of her braid to his nose, Angel inhaled the scent of her shampoo and humanity, then leaned forward to whisper, "This is the last night you will smell human, Willow."

Another shudder ran through her and the fear seized her. She began to sob mindlessly, sharp gasps of sound that dug into Spike's heart.

"I love you, Willow, with all my heart and mind and body. Be strong for me, my love," he murmured over and over.

Dropping the braid over her shoulder, Angel stepped back and unfurled the whip.

End Chapter 15


	17. The Center

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the punishment as the struggle for survival continues, and Buffy pops in. The amulet, the prophecy, the five...everything comes together and then there's that pesky Hellmouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on September 29, 2002, and rated R for the aftermath of Willow's whipping and Angelus being his usual bastard self. I originally worried it was a little too deus ex machina, but over the years I've been pretty happy with this solution...and oh did this spawn so much more.

Slinking silently into the darkened great room, Buffy stared in shock at the figure hanging from the ceiling.

Her unique scent hit him immediately when she moved upwind, and Spike opened his swollen eyes and tugged futilely on the chains. "What are you doing here, Slayer?" he whispered dully.

"I...I came to talk to Angel," she stammered, shock and dread filling her. "I didn't expect...How did he find you so fast?" Bitterness filled her quiet voice.

"We..." Spike swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and tried again. "Willow insisted we return. She...she thought..." As he broke off, unable to continue, he saw her eyes drift up to the ceiling.

Spike knew she wasn't looking at his chains.

"She's still human." He broke down again and sobbed, "Why doesn't he just do it?"

"She's...she's still alive?" Buffy's eyes widened and a glimmer of hope filled her.

"He won't let you stop him."

Determined, Buffy looked around, then grabbed a wooden chair and dragged it over to Spike. Climbing on it, she quickly broke the chains and he staggered, his arms falling heavily at his sides. "Are you okay?" She gave him a curious look, wondering why he wasn't a bloody pulp, as she freed his wrists from the manacles.

Spike turned stricken, red eyes on her, then fell to his knees, his chin dropping to his chest in defeat. "He...he whipped *her* instead of me, to punish us both."

Buffy gasped in horror, her hand going to her mouth as her eyes widened. "No." She shook her head in denial.

"He knew only that would break me," Spike sobbed brokenly. "She was...she was so brave...but he...There was so much blood."

Tears filled the Slayer's eyes, but she reached down and grabbed the shaking vampire by the arm, hauling him to his feet. "We have to get her out of here."

"He'll never allow that. I got lucky the first time."

"We *have* to," she stressed, dragging him towards the stairs.

*****

Willow awoke to blinding pain. She opened her mouth to scream, but only a gurgle of sound came out, and she choked. The cough sent a wave of agony through her and she stiffened against it.

"Flow with it, Willow," Drusilla murmured. "Ride the pain."

Heat flooded Willow and sweat broke out on her skin as she began to tremble. She cried out as a cool, rough tongue lapped along her spine.

"You taste so good," Drusilla crooned, moving to straddle the injured girl's legs and leaning down to lick gently at the bleeding wounds.

The five inflamed lash marks oozed crimson blood down the slender back, and the vampiress carefully lapped up as much as she could. Willow whimpered at each throb of pain. Curling her fingers into the bedding beneath her, she prayed for a return to unconsciousness.

The pain was going to kill her.

"Not yet, my sweet. Death will come soon, but not from these little wounds."

"I can't stand it," Willow gasped.

"Yes you can. Pain is a lover to such as we." Drusilla's tongue traced a line down to the small of Willow's back, and a shiver went through them both.

A weak sob broke from Willow as terror made her teeth chatter. "Not like this," she whispered weakly. "It's too much. My body's on fire."

"Savor it," Drusilla encouraged, sitting up and staring at the ceiling. "You will never feel such inner heat again." Her head cocked and her eyes slid towards the doorway. "Daddy's coming..."

Willow managed to turn her head just in time to see Angel enter the room. He wore only a pair of low-slung, black leather pants, his pale, smooth chest gleaming in the dimly lit room.

When he saw that Willow was conscious, he couldn't help but give her a slight smile of pride. "Such fortitude."

Willow could only whimper in response as he rounded the bed and sat down next to her. Cruelly he dragged one finger down her back, then licked the blood from it as she forced back a scream of agony.

"So very sweet."

Slipping off the bed, Drusilla leaned against the high post at the opposite corner from her sire, watching, both sorrow and eagerness flittering across her animate face.

"It's time," Angel said softly, reaching down to pull Willow's limp body onto his lap.

The door burst open and Spike and Buffy ran into the room. Angel rolled his eyes in disgust and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Out."

"Willow," Spike yelled, running to her and dropping to his knees next to the bed, one hand reaching for hers and clasping it tightly. She tried to squirm closer to him, but her strength was gone, and all she could do was gaze longingly at him through tear-filled eyes.

Buffy stomped past Drusilla and rounded the end of the bed, all her fury focused on Angel.

One glance at Willow's back had been almost enough to send her running to vomit up her dinner. Tears nearly blinded her, but she knew she had to stop this.

Even if Angel had to die.

Buffy's hand went into her jacket pocket for a stake, but found the amulet instead. When her fingers brushed across the emerald, a lance of heat went through her hand and she found herself pulling the chain from her pocket. As soon as the jewel was exposed the whole necklace jerked from her hand and hovered over the bed.

"That can't be good," Buffy muttered to herself, placing one knee on the bed to climb up and grab the amulet.

As she did so, there was a brilliant flash and five beams of light exploded from the emerald, slamming into the breasts of the four surrounding the bed and Willow's back.

Fire poured through her heart and Willow screamed, her whole body bowing off the bed. The light was too bright to see, but she could hear the others. Above the cries of pain, she could make out Drusilla's chant.

"The red and the black and the gold..."

Then, everything went dark.

*****

In the Library, the floor buckled and the walls shook. Xander shoved Cordelia into the doorway of the office, crying out as a shelf fell off the wall, striking him on the shoulder. As he staggered, she grabbed him and pulled him with her.

Clinging to her boyfriend, she saw Giles sheltering Jenny in the doorway of the storage room across from them. She followed the direction of his eyes and cried out in horror.

The floor was splitting.

Terrifying memories of the night she found out the truth about the Hellmouth returned with a vengeance, and Cordelia clung tighter to Xander, trying not to panic.

"Oh...fuck," Xander muttered, when he saw the tiles cracking.

"We've got to get out of here," Giles yelled, pulling Jenny towards the swinging doors of the Library. She screamed a warning as a bank of lights started to fall, and they jumped aside just in time.

"Come on," Cordelia encouraged, ducking low and dragging Xander with her.

"We are so dead." He scrambled over the counter and lifted Cordelia over next before dashing for the doors.

All four reached them at the same time and they stumbled into the quiet hallway.

Nothing was shaking.

"Well, that pretty much wipes out the 'it's just an earthquake' theory," Jenny sighed.

Giles stared in horror at the doors to the Library. "We have to find Buffy."

*****

Willow awoke to the sound of Buffy's voice.

"When a heart ends, the world will die. Fire and ice and destruction is nigh."

Opening her eyes, she realized at the same time that she wasn't in any pain, and that she was lying on a hard yet warm floor. She pushed herself up to her knees and took in her surroundings.

She was in the middle of what looked to be a five sided room with pale green glass walls and floor. The soft light had a green tint. Surrounding her at the points of the room were Drusilla, Angel, Buffy and Spike. Buffy was the only one conscious and she stood, reading the words inscribed on the walls.

"'To avert the end, tradition must break. Turning of backs for true love's sake. The five into one. A pentacle of power. Life and death and heart and stone. All at the appointed hour. The red and the black and the gold will entwine, to save the world under the full moon's shine.'"

As Buffy turned, she saw Willow and gave her a tremulous smile. "I hate prophecies."

"It's a prophecy?"

Buffy shrugged. "Sure reads like one, all vague and crap. Are you...are you okay?"

Reaching a hand around behind her, Willow touched her naked back. "No lash marks." She glanced down at her hand to make sure there was no blood, and saw that her fingers were shimmering. "I'm not sure we're in our bodies, though."

"Feels real." Buffy shrugged out of her knee length coat and passed it to Willow, before walking over to glance down at Angel. "I wonder why they're still out."

The coat covering her, Willow rose to read the prophecy for herself. It covered all five walls in an elegant black script. "You're right, very vague. What happened? I was sort of out of it." As the memories of the brutal whipping came back, she shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, driving them away so she could concentrate on whatever was happening.

"Um, there's this amulet, might bring about the end of the world, might save it. Giles wasn't sure. I had it in my pocket. I thought maybe Angel might know the language the inscription was in." Buffy ignored Willow's frown and continued, "I was reaching for a stake to threaten him with and I touched the amulet and...it kind of made me take it out and then it..." Buffy furled her brow as she tried to remember. "I think it floated by itself and then there was this big flash of light and...I don't remember anything else until I woke up here."

"An amulet? What did it look like?"

"One of those five pointed star thingies in a circle that witches use. Oh, and in the middle is an emerald."

"An emerald?" Willow looked around at the green, glass-like walls. "Um, Buffy? Could we be *in* the emerald?"

Buffy looked around as well, then rolled her eyes. "Well, crap."

"Where the fuck are we?" came an angry, masculine growl from the floor. Shaking his head to clear it, Angel pushed himself up to his feet.

"We're trying to figure that out, darling," Buffy sneered.

Angel threw her a nasty look, then turned his attention to Willow. "You look remarkably well."

Willow took an instinctive step backwards. "I don't think these are our bodies." Then she got angry and took two steps forwards. "This one doesn't have bleeding, raw lash marks that are going to scar me for life."

"Since you're going to become a vampire as soon as we get out of wherever the hell we are, you're not going to care," Angel yelled back.

"Leave her alone," Spike growled as he staggered to his feet.

Spinning on him, Angel lashed out and cracked a fist across his cheek. Spike reeled into a wall and a tremor ran through the room.

"My bed is shaking," Drusilla whimpered from the floor. When her eyes opened, they widened. "The prophecy..."

The shaking stopped and Willow hurried over to where Spike was wiping blood from his nose. Pressing against him, she dabbed at the crimson stream with her coat sleeve.

"Hey, that's my coat," Buffy protested, then sighed and added in resignation, "Not like it hasn't been bloody before..."

"And just how did you get down from the ceiling, boy?" Angel barked snidely.

"Fuck off sweetheart." Buffy stepped between her lover and the couple comforting each other. Behind her Drusilla began to wander around the room reading the inscription to herself. "I freed him so we could rescue Willow."

Angel glanced around the doorless glass room. "Yeah, good job doing that, Buff." On spying the words on the walls, his eyes narrowed. "Let me guess, the damn prophecy."

"Probably. Willow thinks we may be in the amulet."

"What amulet? Oh, the one my idiot minions found?"

"Yeah, the one that's going to end the world."

"And we're inside it?"

Shrugging, Buffy replied, "Well, the stone in the center is a five sided emerald, the room we're in has five points and green glass-like walls. Do the math."

"I don't think these are our bodies," Angel said, examining his skin. It was whiter than normal. "You and Spike burst into the room and then there was a flash of light..."

"I saw the amulet," Spike said, hugging Willow to his side. "It flew out of the Slayer's hand to hover over Willow."

"We were at the four corners," Drusilla murmured, brushing her fingers over the word 'pentacle'.

"We activated the amulet?" Angel asked, turning to read the inscription more closely.

Willow muttered, "That can't be good."

"Giles thinks it either opens the Hellmouth or keeps it closed. He couldn't translate it. If this is the translation...well, as usual it's stupid and vague and makes no sense."

"To you." Angel shot Buffy a look that indicated that she was sometimes as dumb as her fake hair color implied. She huffed in response, but he ignored her and pointed to the middle of the prophecy. "'The five into one'. There are five of us, together as one wherever the hell we are. 'A pentacle of power.' Well, that obvoiusly means the amulet. 'Life and death and heart and stone' could mean us again. You and Willow are life, the three of us are death. Three of you, Spike included, have hearts, Dru and I have stone instead."

"I have a heart," Drusilla protested.

"And how can a heart of stone love?" Willow asked, looking between Angel and Buffy.

Angel sighed heavily. "Fine, whatever, maybe it means before you two humans invaded our lives and made us love."

Buffy tried to ignore the tingle of joy his words wrought, as she read the next bit, "'All at the appointed hour' and 'under the full moon's shine'. It was just on midnight when we burst in and there's a full moon. Midnight's a traditional time for this kind of thing, right?"

Angel nodded, and addressed the section she left out. "'The red and the black and the gold' could mean us again. Two black, Dru and I, two gold, you and Spike, and Willow as red."

"What does entwine mean?" Willow asked, dreading the answer as images of an orgy filled her head.

"You have a filthy mind, Willow Rosenberg," Angel smirked, reading her like a book. He chuckled as she blushed, and a thrill of pride traveled through him at Spike's protective growl of his mate.

"Well, what do you think it means?" she finally asked, her embarrassment somewhat under control.

Angel shrugged. "I don't know. We're probably supposed to do something in here to stave off the end of the world."

"I am *not* having an orgy," Buffy stated quite clearly.

"Speaking of dirty minds..." Angel reached out and snagged Buffy's arm, pulling her against him and grinning down on her. "Orgies are fun."

"In your dreams, bub."

"It's not an orgy," Drusilla said softly, turning to face the two couples. Her eyes were vague and her hands fluttered nervously in front of her chest. She stared at a spot on the wall past them as she continued, her voice almost droning. "To save the world, to keep the Hellmouth closed, the five of us must be bound in a pact beyond time, beyond ourselves, to our children and their children and on for eternity."

"Dru, pet, what are you talking about," Spike asked gently, reaching his free hand out for her.

She skittered back and continued to speak, as if he hadn't interrupted. "The Hellmouth is beginning to open. If we go back without the bond, if the line is broken with Willow's turning, it will open and nothing will close it. You cannot turn her, Angel, until she has produced a child to carry on for her."

Willow stared at the vampiress, stunned. "What?"

"If we die, our childer replace us. There must always be five, the four points and the heart, the center. Two human, three vampire, black and gold and red, loving, always loving. Hearts made of flesh not stone." Suddenly her eyes shown with gold fire and she smiled. "We will rule the underworld and keep the Earth safe for all time."

"We're demons, Dru, we're not supposed to save anything," Angel retorted, frustrated as he tried to make sense of what she was saying.

"Dichotomy, my Angel. We have always been different. My dementia, William's compassion, your wickedness, traits carried on through our childer. All of us have been tempered by love, when demons such as we are not supposed to be able to feel that emotion. But, that love doesn't weaken us. It makes us stronger, and when we join with our lovers, the five of us will have the strength to seal the Hellmouth."

"What?" Buffy jumped eagerly on the last bit.

Smiling, Drusilla turned to face her long-time nemesis. "Although there will always be vampires and demons for Slayers to fight, the draw to Sunnydale shall cease, and no one will threaten the Hellmouth. The world will be safe, at least from that fate. And you, dear Slayer, might live a long life."

"How do we do this, Dru?" Spike asked, again reaching for her. This time she took his hand and let him draw her against his other side. Reaching across him she brushed her fingers over Willow's cheek.

Then she held out her hand to Buffy who stared at it for along time before taking it and curling the fingers of her other hand into Angel's gentle grip.

As a circle formed, Angel and Willow turned to look at each other. Slowly their free hands slid across the gap until their fingers touched.

The light returned, spearing through them, but this time bringing such pleasure that it left them gasping in sheer glory. Dimly Willow felt Angel's fingers tighten around hers and she returned the clasp.

"It is done."

Drusilla's voice reverberated through them, then everything went dark.

End Chapter 16


	18. The Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prophecy begins to unfold and the two humans and their vampire lovers need to figure out how to stop it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on October 1, 2002 with the summary of: Well, the pesky Hellmouth's opening. Will they let it or will they close it? 
> 
> Original end notes: Well, closing the Hellmouth took longer than planned, so you get an extra chapter. Next up, everything makes sense...hopefully, and since it only took me a couple hours to write this chapter, and if my boss goes out drinking tomorrow like usual, I might get the next one out tomorrow!
> 
> That did not happen. Interesting that boss **still** goes out drinking once a week. *g* Sorry about the delay--holidays, man! I will get this all up before Christmas.

Willow awoke to a feeling of euphoria which was quickly dashed by a feeling of intense weakness and aches throughout her entire body. Groaning, she forced her eyes open and found herself staring at Spike who was on his knees slumped against the bed.

Between them lay an antique gold chain with a white crystal set within a pentacle.

Her memories returned on a rush of panic and she pushed herself up onto her knees, dimly acknowledging that her back didn't hurt as much as it should.

"Ow," came Buffy's voice from the end of the bed. "How can I feel so great and so horrible at the same...oh..."

"Spike." Willow shook his shoulder and he stirred, mumbling.

"What the hell happened?" He blinked his eyes open and spying her smiled. "Willow."

"Emerald, bond, not dead, remember?"

"Hellmouth." At the end of the bed, Buffy was suddenly a flurry of activity, as she ignored the languor in her bones and found a robe for Willow. "Get dressed, quickly. The Hellmouth's opening."

"Oh shit," Angel yelled, forcing himself to his feet and grabbing Drusilla from the floor.

"The Old Ones are coming," Drusilla whined. "They'll ruin everything."

"We can stop it, right?" Buffy asked, getting in Drusilla's face.

"I think..." The vampiress trembled helplessly, her mind awhirl with images and memories. "Bound, five into one. To open or close. We five choose the fate of the world." Suddenly her eyes cleared and she snapped upright. "But, we must hurry."

Spike helped Willow into the silk robe. The four outside the center were recovering quickly but she was weak as a kitten. Scooping the amulet up, he placed it over her head. "I'll carry you."

But, he stumbled as he tried to lift her, and Angel was there, cradling her against his chest. Spike made a move to take her away, his heart protesting, and Angel shook his head.

"I'm stronger than you, Will. I've got her." At Spike's indecisive look, he smiled gently. "I've got her."

Finally Spike nodded and gave his sire a strong, determined look. "Right. Time to go save the world."

As one, the five headed for the door.

*****

"Buffy was taking the amulet to Angel," Cordelia said. "What if they did something stupid?"

"I think that's a given," Xander replied bitterly, gesturing to the swaying doors to the Library and the mounting destruction visible through the windows.

"How long do we have, Rupert?" Jenny asked, trying to stay calm.

Giles stared blindly at the Library and slowly shook his head. "Not enough time to find her."

Cordelia turned and snapped, "Cell phones, time to invest in them."

"Survive first, accessorize later," Xander cried, as the doors swung violently open and a bookcase full of books flew at them, sending them scattering.

"Giles, what do we know about the amulet?"

Slowly he turned to face his lover as they moved away from the slowly opening Hellmouth. "The number five seems to be of some importance. Five somethings, people perhaps, are needed to open the Hellmouth."

"Nothing about a time or place?" Jenny asked, frustrated by their lack of knowledge.

He shook his head, warily glancing back at the sounds of wood splintering in his beautiful Library. "I managed somehow to translate the word 'moon', but couldn't discover what phase of the moon."

"Tonight's a full moon," Xander pointed out. "And the room started rocking at midnight. I'd just checked the clock."

"Traditional times, both," Giles sighed, suddenly looking very old. "I'm afraid I've failed quite miserably."

"Rupert..." Wrapping her arms around his waist, Jenny comforted him the best way she could.

Watching more debris spill into the hall, Xander pointed out worriedly, "Maybe we should head for the hills."

"No need. Cavalry's here," Buffy said from the other end of the hall.

Giles and Jenny looked up, and Xander and Cordelia spun around to see Buffy flanked by Spike, Drusilla, and frighteningly enough, Angel carrying Willow walking towards them.

"Since when is Dead Boy cavalry?"

Cordelia thwapped her boyfriend.

At the sight of the destruction fifty feet further down the hallway, Buffy frowned and glanced at her watch. It was ten after twelve. "No beasties yet?"

"None that we know of," Giles replied. "What happened?"

"Long story short, we triggered the opening, but we can stop it."

"We who?" Cordelia asked.

"The five of us."

"...Five?" Giles rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Red and black and gold?"

Drusilla smiled and chanted, "The red and the black and the gold will entwine, to save the world under the full moon's shine."

"An orgy?"

Cordelia smacked Xander's arm harder.

"OW!"

"What is it with you humans and your ability to constantly jump to the most sordid conclusions?" Angel asked as he strode towards the Library doors. "Let's get this over with. We have much to discuss."

"Any clue *how* we're supposed to do this?" Spike asked, jogging to catch up with his sire.

Buffy gave Giles an apologetic look, grabbed Drusilla's wrist and took off after their lovers.

Angel stopped before the now wildly swinging doors and looked down at Willow. "Can you stand?" At her nod, he set her carefully on her feet. Spike immediately wrapped one arm around her waist to support her.

"Has anything come out, yet?" Buffy asked, trying to peer into the Library between swings.

"Doesn't look like it."

"Or smell like it," Angel added on to his eldest childe's statement.

"Lovely. So...what do we do?" At Buffy's question, they all turned to Drusilla who smiled vacantly back at them.

"Why are you looking at me?"

Angel groaned loudly. "Dru!"

"I just know we can stop it. I don't know how," she replied petulantly.

"Maybe we need to hold hands again."

At Willow's suggestion, they all moved to form the same circle as they had in the emerald. As Angel took Willow's hand, forming the final link, the now clear jewel resting between her breasts began to glow until a beam of pure white light exploded from it, encircled the five, then poured through the open doors. A loud humming noise filled the air as the light spread through the room.

Coming up behind them, Giles and the others stared in shock as energy flowed into the Hellmouth. Though the light was very bright, they could make out the rifts in the floor mending as glowing streams of energy interlaced along the tiles, forming a web that slowly constricted until the separate strands could no longer be seen.

All that left was a shield of white.

With a bang, the doors closed and the light went out.

Willow was the first to collapse, falling heavily against Spike, gasping in pain. As he caught her, he saw a spot of blood forming on the silk of the robe over her heart, and felt a lance of pain go through his chest. Cradling her against his side, he pulled aside the robe and found a small pentacle carved into the inner curve of her left breast, oozing blood.

"Damnit! What the fuck is this doing here?" Angel ranted, his shirt open and an identical wound on his chest.

"I have one, too, daddy."

"Dru, stop waving your tits around," he barked, moving in front of her to shield her from the humans until she pulled her dress back up. Looking over at Buffy he saw her peering down the front of her shirt, a chagrined look on her face.

"Mom is *so* not going to be happy about this."

Spike didn't need to look to know that he had one as well.

"You did it." Awed, Giles pushed open the Library doors and stepped inside.

Everything was back to normal, as if the damage had never occurred. The only thing different was a faint pentagram carved in white on the floor.

It matched the marks the five now bore.

"Spike?" Willow whimpered. "I don't feel so good."

Concerned, he scooped her into his arms and carried her into Giles' office, settling her on the couch before dropping to his knees beside her. "What's wrong with her? We all went through the same thing and we're fine."

"I feel like I've been bulldozed and could sleep for a week, but otherwise I feel okay." Buffy shrugged helplessly. "Maybe it's because she's the only one without super-stamina?"

"That's probably it," Giles said, entering the room and putting the kettle on for tea. "You were all channeling powerful energies. We could actually feel the power. That kind of energy has to take a toll on the body."

"She's the weak link," Angel growled softly.

"We have to protect her." Floating into the small room, Drusilla settled on the couch and lifted Willow's head onto her lap to gently stroke the girl's sweat and blood matted hair. Her fingers came away with flecks of dried blood and she raised them to the light. "Her wounds are healed, yet the blood remains. It binds us together."

"Her wounds?" Jenny asked from the crowded door way.

"In the hurry to get here, I'd actually forgotten about them." Buffy rounded on Angel and punched him in the nose.

"Hey!"

"Oops, my fist slipped," she replied sweetly, then leaned up and kissed him. "You're a pig and a brute, and I'm the idiot who loves you."

"Not the only one." Spike scowled up at his sire, then turned his attention back to Willow. "They didn't even scar, did they, luv."

She shook her head slowly.

"I dreamed of the Aurelian whip," Drusilla murmured. "A symbol of our line, a line so different from others." She broke down into giggles. "We saved the world."

Spike grinned up at her. "That we did, pet."

"It was fun."

Angel rolled his eyes.

"And now it's time for babies."

At that pronouncement, Giles nearly dropped the tea kettle and everyone gaped at the dark vampiress benignly patting Willow's flat stomach.

End Chapter 17


	19. The Bond

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babies? Bonds? Everything starts to make sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on October 4, 2002 and explains everything. It's rated R.
> 
> Original end notes: Well, I hope it all made sense, wasn't too predictable or too weird, and works for everyone. For those who thought I'd turn Willow or Buffy, that was never in the cards, but I appreciate all the guesses and inspirational feedback! Way back when I wrote"Shot in the Dark" I knew I'd never let Angel win and turn Willow into a vampire, but I just had to figure out a way to keep them all alive and happy. I so love happy endings! Smut next! And then...on to new things!

Still leaning heavily against Spike, Willow unlocked the front door to her house and stepped inside, followed by Buffy. Slowly she turned to face the two left on the doorstep.

"I'm going to trust that neither of you will abuse this privilege."

Angel's lips twitched into a slight smirk. "I already have an invite. I'm just being polite."

Buffy rolled her eyes, but refrained from commenting.

"I'll be good. Cross my heart." Drusilla beamed a smile at Willow.

Sighing, the redhead nodded. "Okay, come in."

The five moved into the living room and took seats. After Drusilla's startling revelation about babies, they had decided they needed to talk first before they faced the whole group. There was too much that was still unknown. They had chosen to go to Willow's house because her parents were out of town as usual.

Spike sat in the middle of the couch with Willow curled up on one side of him and Drusilla on the other. Buffy and Angel took chairs, each of them looking uncomfortably at the other.

"Well...um..." Buffy broke the silence. "Anyone have any clue what's going on?"

Drusilla raised her hand.

"Go on, Pet, tell us what you know," Spike encouraged as Buffy rolled her eyes again.

Placing her clasped hands primly in her lap, Drusilla began to recite. "The pretty lights told it all to me. We triggered the opening of the Hellmouth but then we stopped it, and we sealed it for all eternity as long as our progeny survive and renew the bond."

"And that means?"

"It means, pretty Slayer, that if one of us dies without a child or grandchild, the Hellmouth will open and the world will fall to darkness."

"Dru, we can't have children," Angel growled.

"But, we have childer, daddy, and they know they are needed and they are returning to the fold. My Amelia, your Christian, Spike's grandchilde, Nick. If one of us dies, our part of the bond will jump to one of our progeny at random, though, obviously if you die, your part will not come to Spike or I. We are childer to you but only outside the bond. Your line will flow through Christian. Does he have childer of his own?"

Angel stared at her in amazement. "How do you know all this, Dru?"

She shrugged elegantly. "I just do. The pretty lights in the gemstone told me. It was all muddled at first, but after we sealed the Hellmouth it began to make sense. And your Slayer and our Willow must have human children of their own who will have more children and so on and so on. That is why you cannot turn Willow. If you do, she will die without progeny and the Hellmouth will open."

Angel's eyes narrowed. "You're not making this up just so I won't turn Willow, are you?"

Drusilla returned his stare guilessly. "I speak only the truth."

"It makes sense, Angelus," Spike added. "The first part of the prophecy stated something along the lines of the world ending when a heart dies, and breaking of tradition."

"'To avert the end, tradition must break. Turning of backs for true love's sake,'" Drusilla chanted.

"Breaking the tradition of holding oath givers to their vows. Turning away from that for love of..." Spike gave them a puzzled look.

"The Earth," Willow said softly. "For what we have here, the life we've forged for ourselves, beyond any imagining. Three master vampires, one Slayer, one human. We're bound by love."

Buffy nodded. "Makes sense, though I'm not bound by any love to her," she pointed to Drusilla who snapped her teeth back at her.

"But, Spike loves her, and I love him and he loves Angel who loves you who loves me and back around again. Love can take many forms."

"Okay, I can accept that." Buffy turned to look at Angel who was regarding them all solemnly. "So, will this work? Can you convince your followers and the other denizens of Sunnydale that you're releasing Willow from her oath in order to save the world?"

He nodded slowly. "Since the majority of the underworld here doesn't want to open the Hellmouth and find themselves subjugated by the Old Ones, I think I can make it work. But, as soon as she has children..."

"You don't have to add that part," Buffy interrupted. "Who's going to know?"

"Clever Slayer."

Angel nodded in agreement with his beautiful childe. "That she is. All right, that saves Willow."

A flood of relief went through Spike and he finally relaxed, cuddling Willow close.

"You didn't really want to turn me, did you." Willow gave her near-sire a knowing look. She had been right to hold on to hope.

"Last Spring? Sure. Once I realized how I truly felt about Buffy and how it would feel to lose her?" Angel shook his head. "This love crap is a big pain in the ass."

Giggling, Buffy rose from her chair to curl up on his lap. "You're still going to have to be punished for whipping her, you know."

"Do your worst," Angel said softly, his eyes molten with desire.

"Um, before this devolves into something I really don't want to see," Willow interjected, "Could we get back to the part about me and Buffy having babies?"

"Oh, yeah," Buffy pulled back and stared down at Angel. "I don't think mom's going to approve of that."

"We're still in high school. No one's going to approve of that. And...vampires don't equal babies, so how...?"

At Spike's look, Willow flushed. "I know *how*, silly. I meant...well...how?"

"Sperm bank, luv. We'll get a nice hot bun in that oven as soon as you graduate." Willow's face fell and Spike gentled his expression. "It's all right, Willow. I'll be there for you the whole way and we'll have a lovely baby in the end."

"I...I want kids, but...so soon? What about college and a job and..."

"A life," Buffy added. "Not that I expected to have a long one, but kids really weren't in my plans."

"We all have to make sacrifices."

"Yeah? What are you sacrificing, darling?" the Slayer asked her lover in a snippy voice.

"Fucking you for nine months."

"Um, Angel? You can have sex almost up to delivery these days."

Angel shot Willow a look of disbelief that slowly changed to one of lust, that he turned on the girl perched on his lap frowning at him. "Hm, that has possibilities. Your tits will get nice and full..."

"Gross! I'll be all fat and..."

"Lovely." He shut her up with a kiss.

Spike looked down at Willow, noting her apprehension. "I know you didn't want this so soon, luv, but we did hope to have children."

"No, it's okay. You're right; I do want kids. I just...well, with everything hanging over my head, I haven't given it much thought, but..." She gave him a quavery smile. "Once I'm done with school we'll do it."

"We'll be married first, Willow," he replied seriously. "Our child will be born in wedlock."

"That doesn't really matter," she protested, but tingled inside at the propriety coming out in her usually irreverent lover.

"It matters." He kissed her lovingly and she melted against him, sighing happily.

"Oh gag me."

"Don't tempt me," Buffy grinned down at Angel. "You gonna marry me, too?" At the look of abject horror on his face, she laughed and kissed him. "Idiot."

Ignoring them, Willow glanced over at Drusilla. "Do you know why we now have pentagrams branded on our chests or why the emerald turned clear?"

"No, but we have time to find all that out. May I see it?" Willow lifted the chain over her head and passed the amulet to Drusilla who examined it, then turned it over. "This is in Vartoo, an obscure dialect, but easily translatable." She looked over at Buffy. "Your Watcher doesn't know Vartoo? Tsk."

Buffy shot her a nasty look, then went back to kissing Angel.

"Perhaps I could teach him," Drusilla continued, her eyes taking on a dreamy quality. "He is very handsome."

"And very taken," Willow chided softly.

"Pooh."

"So, are we done here?" Setting Buffy on her feet, Angel quickly rose behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "We just saved the world and all that rot. I figure it's time to celebrate."

"And just what do you have in mind?" Buffy grinned up at him, then squealed as he rotated his pelvis, pressing his erection against her thinly covered back. "My mom's home, and I really don't want to go back to the mansion with your childer popping out of the woodwork, not until we have a chance to explain everything, so where?"

"You're probably right. Don't think they'd understand their Master dicking the Slayer."

"Do you have to be so crude?"

Angel thrust his hips forward and she whimpered.

"Guess so," she answered her own question.

"You can use the guest room."

Spike gave Willow a concerned look. "Are you sure you want him here?"

"I...I don't hate him...much." She dropped her eyes, trying not to think about the events of earlier in the evening and the whipping she'd received at Angel's hands. Oddly enough, the memories didn't send panic flooding her, as if everything had happened in the distant past. Another aspect of the bond? That she wouldn't be terrified of Angel anymore?

Turning his attention to his sire, Spike stood, moving instinctively in front of Willow. "It's over now, right, sire? She's safe from being turned?"

"Yes."

"And the right of a sire over her?"

Angel glanced down at Buffy and nearly groaned at the wistful look in her eyes. "I think I have my hands full right here...for now." Buffy's sudden smile sent his heart into his throat and he tenderly nuzzled her neck.

"Guest room, now," Buffy mumbled, urging him towards the stairs.

Willow leaned over and kissed Drusilla softly. "You're welcome to stay."

Shaking her head, the vampiress rose and straightened her gown. "No, this night belongs to the two of you. You need to renew your love for each other after so much fear and anguish."

Spike moved to give her a quick hug and peck on the cheek. "Thanks, luv. We'll see you tomorrow."

Drusilla headed to the front door, followed by Willow and Spike who were holding each other's hand in a sweet yet tight grip. Both were still a little stunned that things had worked out the way they had.

"I will go home and see that rooms are prepared. I believe we will have more company tomorrow. They will all come, not knowing why they are drawn home to us, bound by ties as strong as the one binding the five of us. We are family."

"It is all I ever wanted," Drusilla said with a smile as she sailed out the door.

End Chapter 18


	20. The Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smutty end. It started with smut; it should end with smut! How else would I end what was supposed to be a one off smutfic? (referring to the whole series)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published on October 11, 2002. It has Willow/Spike and Buffy/Angel sex and a bit of spanking. It's a happy ending--I always planned that; just had to figure out how to get there.

Spike reclined back against the headboard of Willow's bed and watched her comb out her wet hair. She'd insisted on bathing first and alone, so while she'd done that he'd lit candles and put on soft music to try to drown out the sounds of boisterous sex from across the hall.

Setting down the comb, Willow tugged open the towel that she'd wrapped around herself and examined the raised brand on the inner curve of her left breast. It was sore to the touch, but no longer bleeding. She hissed slightly as she poked at it.

"It's not fair. Your's has already healed."

At her pout, Spike grinned and glanced down at the pale pink pentagram on his pectoral muscle. It was just slightly darker than his skin and looked like it had been there for decades.

Letting the towel drop, Willow turned and walked over to the bed, slipping in beside Spike and cuddling next to him. As he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, she slid her hand down his jean-clad thigh.

"I can't believe it's over."

"And something new's starting." He kissed her upturned lips and she sighed softly.

"It feels...weird. I've been scared for so long, you know, deep down inside where I barely noticed it most of the time, and now that's gone. That place is empty."

"There's nothing to be afraid of anymore."

Willow chuckled. "Oh, just wait till we tell my parents we're getting married right after graduation and I'm not going to college."

"I dread meeting your mum."

"See? Fear," she teased.

"You can go to college. I'll stay home and take care of the nippers."

A smile crossed her face and she kissed his cheek. "Nippers, huh? More than one?"

"As many as you want, luv."

"It's probably safer that way, too. This is all really weird. I'd just gotten used to the first bond and now this..."

"I think it was all meant to happen. Dru was right, we're all very different from the average vampire. Two years ago the last thing I would have ever imagined being possible was for me to love a human. No, wait, that's the second to last thing. First would be Angelus loving the Slayer."

"Love is a miraculous thing. I'm not being facetious. It really is. The three of you have risen above your demons to become something better. And it probably started with your love for Dru. Master vampires aren't supposed to truly love."

"And Angelus always said my soft-heart would be my downfall."

"Instead, it saved the world." Willow grinned and moved to straddle him, her hands lightly caressing his chest. "Now, you have too many clothes on, and I'm tired of talking."

Spike gave her a mischievous look and cupped her bottom in his hands. "Oh, are you? Do you have some better use for my mouth?" With a yank, he pulled her up his body.

*****

They'd made it into the room...barely.

Still wearing her shirt, though her bra was twisted around her waist, the straps snapped, and her jeans were caught by her boots at her ankles, Buffy was pressed face first against the wall as Angel pounded into her from behind. It wasn't the most comfortable position for either of them, but it was the first one they'd found themselves in.

Half squatting, Angel thrust hard, his face a twisted grimace of lust and love. His hands squeezed her breasts, rolling the hardened nipples against his rough palms. Buffy moaned, a long, continuous sound, and squirmed against him, driving him deeper into her hot, dripping channel.

With a cry, he buried his mouth in her neck and exploded into her, triggering her own release. As they shuddered together, they sank to their knees then toppled over onto the sides, still joined, still moving as one.

"Oh...fuck..." Buffy groaned, arching into him.

Angel grinned as his cock stayed hard. Grabbing her leg, he pulled it back over him and began to thrust again. As she shuddered against him, he shoved her shirt up around her neck and roughly fondled her breasts.

Buffy twisted her head and kissed him hungrily. "Don't stop. Don't ever stop."

"Not...gonna..." he grunted, then slid his fingers between her legs to caress her swollen flesh. "Baby, you're so hot and tight...Come for me again."

As he manipulated her clit, tugging on the tender nubbin, Buffy bucked wildly into his hand and cried out his name as she exploded in pleasure.

Angel rolled her onto her stomach, shoved her legs wide apart and slammed into her again and again until he howled his release to the ceiling.

When he finally flopped onto his back, Buffy struggled to her knees, pulled the shirt over her head, and hissed at the sight of her reddened breasts and the still raw brand.

"Nice rug burns, lover."

She glowered down at his smug, grinning face and pushed herself to her feet. "I'm going to go see if Willow has any aloe lotion." She headed for the door.

Suddenly scowling, Angel jumped to his feet and barred her way. "Not like that, you're not. Do you think I want my horny childe to see you naked?"

Buffy flushed and her eyes shifted guiltily away from him.

Angel's own eyes narrowed as he listened to her heart rate increase and smelled a sudden spike of fear. "Buffy?"

She fiddled with unhooking her torn bra, her eyes on her feet. "I'll find a robe or go toga style in a bed sheet."

"Buffy?"

The growl made her jump and babble. "It was just once."

He reached for her and she danced backwards, continuing to babble, but with enough sense to tell only half the story. "It was back when Faith arrived and you beat the shit out of Spike and I went to comfort Willow and Spike came some time in the night and we just all slept in the bed, Willow in the middle, really."

Angel frowned, then his eyes widened in surprise. "Just how were you comforting Willow?"

Buffy squirmed and blushed, and a slow smirk crossed his face.

"So, Willow turned you onto the erotic joys of Sapphic love?"

"Actually, I did the turning. Can we not discuss this?" she mumbled, crossing her arms over her breasts, then wincing at the throb of pain from her tender skin.

He just smirked wider and scooped his shirt off the floor. "That should cover you. Have you screwed the cheerleader, too?"

Wrapping herself in the large shirt, Buffy stomped around him towards the door. "Big, stupid mouth..."

"Bet it's talented, too."

"Argh!"

*****

Rocking against Spike's mouth on her way to her second orgasm, Willow clung to the headboard and panted loudly. As he sucked and licked at her aching, swollen clit, he smacked his hands against her bottom, alternating from one to the other cheek until they glowed bright red and the pain sent bolts of pleasure through her.

Just as she was beginning to shudder and reach her peak, he peeled her off of him and tossed her onto her back. With one inhumanly quick movement he was between her legs and thrusting into her at a torrid pace. Crying out in surprise and pleasure, Willow wrapped her legs around his hips and arched to meet him. She reached up and tugged his mouth down to hers for an erotic, tongue twisting kiss, as they frantically moved together.

"Come, come, come," he chanted between kisses, angling his hips to rub his pelvic bone against her clit. Willow mewled in delight and ground her hips upwards. She felt his balls smack heavily against her and looked up to see his face tighten.

"You come," she moaned, running her fingers up and down his spine, finally slipping one into his hole and flicking his prostate.

Spike howled in pleasure and spilled himself into her, thrusting harder and harder until he collapsed, gasping her name.

Willow smiled and wriggled her finger inside him, then smiled even more when she felt his cock harden again. She slid her feet down the backs of his thighs and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Blinking, he looked up from where his face was pillowed on her right breast.

"More?"

"Always," she whispered seductively, then urged him onto his back. Rising above him, she slid him back inside and began to rock. She shoved her damp hair out of her face and cupped her breasts, carefully caressing the left one, her eyes fixed on his.

Spike relaxed and let his desire build slowly as she moved sinuously above him. His hands found her thighs, then her stomach, touching her lightly, finally moving up to her nipples. As her hands fell away, he pinched her nipples, rubbing them between his fingers until they turned dark red and pebbled.

Pushing himself up into a seated position, he pulled her legs around his waist and wrapped his arms around her back.

Face to face, pressed tightly together, they kissed tenderly, as she continued to rise and fall on his cock, her muscles clenching and releasing, as her own desire flared deep inside her.

"Love you," Spike murmured, dashing kisses down the side of her face to the scars on her neck.

"Oh...oh God...love you, too," Willow cried as a gentle orgasm broke over her leaving him trembling on his lap, her mouth pressed against his shoulder.

Spike lowered her onto her back and began to thrust faster. Fastening his lips over one of her nipples, he suckled hungrily as he came again. Willow wrapped her arms around his head and held him to her, as languorous pleasure flooded her and his cool semen filled her, soothing her heated passage.

Sighing happily, they collapsed, entangled together, their feet on the pillows.

*****

After performing a quick wash and rubbing soothing lotion on her reddened breasts, Buffy returned to the bedroom to find Angel on the bed, his hands wrapped around his cock, his body arched and his face twisted with lust, as his seed spewed onto his stomach and hands.

She arched a brow in amusement. "Couldn't wait?"

Falling back onto the pillows, Angel gasped, "All that talk of girl on girl action. Turned me on."

Buffy unbuttoned the shirt and let it drop to the floor. "You know that black dildo and strap-on I used on you?" At his nod, she licked her lips and strolled to the bed, leaning down to whisper, "I used it on them first."

Angel's cock sprang erect and she laughed, then pounced on him.

*****

Hours later Buffy awoke to find herself alone. Frowning, she slipped on Angel's shirt and padded out of the room. Willow's door was open and candlelight spilled into the hall. Nude, Angel leaned against the doorjamb looking into the room.

Frowning even more, Buffy crept up on him. Before she could touch him, his hand shot back and grabbed her wrist, pulling her into the doorway with him.

"What...?" she hissed.

Curled on the bed beneath a pale pink blanket were Spike and Willow. They were sound asleep, totally unaware of being watched. Their heads shared a pillow and their hands were clasped on Willow's stomach.

Buffy felt a frisson of fear go through her. Was it not over after all?

"I love him."

Buffy stared blankly at him and Angel turned his head to look down at her. There was chagrin and resignation on his face as he shrugged helplessly.

"He's my favorite childe, and I love him. Demons aren't supposed to love, Buffy, but my childer and I all do. I'd blame it on this new bond, except I've felt this way for a long time."

Smiling in relief and happiness, Buffy wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled against his chest. "It doesn't make you soft, you know. It makes you strong."

"It may take a while for that to set in."

"We'll work on it." She glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping pair. "And Willow?"

"She's perfect for him," Angel grudgingly admitted. "I like her spunk."

Buffy grinned. "Come back to bed and let me show you how much I adore you."

"Horny woman," he growled softly, then picked her up off her feet and carried her back to the guest room.

Opening his eyes, Spike didn't try to stop the tears from falling. Something inside his chest tightened with emotion, then released, sending tremors through him. He clutched Willow closer, burying his face in her hair.

His sire loved him. He had never expected that.

Love truly was a miraculous thing.

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original end notes: End "The End" and End of TEAOW&S
> 
> I said there would be an epilogue but I've decided against it. There's a chance I might do some future stories and I don't want to give anything away. Don't count on it anytime soon, though. I have Divine Madness to finish, my new bizarro "There's Always Another" to continue, and my version of Season 7 that I want to try. Thanks for coming along with me for the four year journey!
> 
> New Notes: I started writing "after" stories pretty much right away. The actual real "end" is a WIP (and sadly has been for several years as I've moved into new fandoms). Divine Madness did get ended. The other two...not so much.
> 
> I will post the "after" stories here and the WIP which maybe will spur me to get off my ass after five years and finish it (it's LONG). I did write a bit about four months ago and I have a pretty clear picture of where it's going.


End file.
